Disclaimer: Y'all know who's it is. Close your eyes and you'll see whats mine. :D

And a big, fat TY to BYTEMITE for taking a look and giving advice.

Mal's dialogue is based on something that my grandpappy once said about his Soldiering Days.

We was there.

Verena had listened to Uncle Mal and Zoe telling "War stories" at the dinner-table. She laughed with the rest of the family of the pranks they played on others or had them played on themselves.

Verena loved hearing stories from before she was born.

Tonight though was the first time she noticed something.

Most of the stories that Uncle Mal and Zoe told were funny.

But the "real" things, that had happened, they rarely ever spoke about, usually only when asked directly.

The rest of the family had scattered to see to some last duties or to enjoy the rest of the evening, just Uncle Mal still sat at the table and enjoyed his coffee. Going by the slightly guilty look on his face, he'd spiked it though. Uncle Simon would flip if he found out, because he'd ordered Mal to "stay dry" to give his liver time to heal, after the captain had caught a bullet there.

Yep, guilty conscience made him jump as Verena re-entered the galley. Trying to be nonchalant, he cleared his throat and smiled at his honorary niece. "Hiya, Sunshine."

Verena smiled back. "Hey, Uncle Mal."

"Whats up?"

She plopped down on his lap. "Just wanted to ask how come you and Zoe never tell any real stories about the war?"

"Shenme?"

Verena played with a button on his shirt. "You only tell funny stories or those that are not really sad, but I know that lots of people die and Granny said, War is Hell."

Uncle Mal took a sip of his coffee. "Smart woman, yer Granny."

Verne poked a her finger in Mal's chest, making him jump. "Yep. And Pa says, it's a miracle she came up with him. So, how about those stories?"

Mal hugged the girl tightly for a moment. "Honey, the things I seen and done ain't pretty. And it makes me so that I have to keep it all inside. Zoe an'