Freya was dreaming. She had to be, at least that’s what she kept telling herself. Partly because Eavesdown Docks never smelled this good, nor the sky quite such an outstanding blue. She was walking up to a certain familiar Firefly, and to a man standing on the ramp, his thumbs tucked into his gunbelt, pants just a little on the tight side so they showed off his fine ass.

“Mal?” The sight of him swept away any thoughts that this wasn’t real – he looked perfect, his eyes reflecting the colour of the sky as if they were glowing, although she found she couldn’t rush to hug him, which puzzled her slightly.

“Hey, Frey.” The captain of Serenity grinned at her. “Come to congratulate me?”

“Congratulate?”

“On my wedding.”

Something was wrong. She knew it. Something about the picture was skewed, like looking in a mirror at a familiar room ... something was off. “You got married?”

“I did. Six months ago.” He was grinning even wider. “I can’t believe I ain’t seen you in all this time, Still, you’re here now, and I’m gonna introduce you to the missus.”

“Mal ...”

“What?”

He looked so genuinely happy she didn’t have the heart to express her doubts. “I ... that’s … congratulations, I guess.” She swallowed hard. “Is it good?”

“Real good. Like having the best party all the time.”

“Then I’m ... I'm glad.”

She’d never said, she realised. Never told him how she felt. In all the years they’d known each other, she’d never let him know that all he had to do was crook his little finger and she’d come running, willing to give everything up to be his forever. And now he was somebody else’s.

“Thanks, Frey. Coming from you, that means a lot.” He turned to look into the comparative darkness of the cargo bay. “Saffron? Come out and meet my best friend.”

There were footsteps coming towards them, and a woman appeared at Mal’s side, her red hair caught up in a straggly ponytail from which tendrils were escaping, her very bounteous assets straining the top she wore. Not that Freya wa