Some days the ship just ain’t big enough. Eight adults, seven kids, a dog, a cat and – at least from the shredded t-shirt Kaylee dragged outta the heating duct – a family of mice. Or maybe rats. That’d be about right. One way or the other, that number of folks all walking, talking, breathing at the same time, and just occasionally the thought crosses my mind to take the shuttle and find a moon where there’s no terraforming, and just sit.

A’course, today I can’t exactly do that. Not since I’m lying in my temporary lodging because of a little altercation with someone else’s bullet ( again , as Simon seems to take delight in telling me), not being able to do much except stare at the ceiling.

And listen.

All the kids are in the cargo bay, and whatever they’re playing they’re making enough noise to wake the dead. They woke me, anyway.

“Gorramit. Can’t they play quieter?” I mutter to myself, since nobody else seems to be caring enough to listen.

“Don’t be such a grouch.”

Lifting my head, I’m not surprised to see Frey standing in the doorway. “Not a grouch.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Oh. My mistake.” She starts to go.

“Hey, wait up.” I struggle up a little higher, and Simon’s good work pulls in my hip. “I thought you were come visiting.”

She smiles, just a bit. “Well, I thought I was going to have to cheer you up, but since you’re not a grouch then you don’t need my help.”

“Hey, I'm the injured party here.” I can get a lot of pout in my voice when I try. “Got shot.”

“That’s not why you’re lying here.”

“Thought it was.”

“And that was your own fault.”

“My fault?” Okay, maybe I hadn't quite envisaged my voice going quite so high, so I cover it with a cough, and a grimace. “My fault?” That’s better.

A flash of concern colours her face for a moment before she relaxes again. “What is it Zoe tells you?”

“Not sure. Not to piss off Badger?”

Her lips twitch. “I don't think that’s possible.”

“Then maybe it’s not to open a window when we’re