The next few days passed pleasurably enough, with the entire kit and caboodle of Serenity’s crew and extended family having decanted to the islands. The sun, sea and sand had the required effect, and everyone relaxed.

Even Jayne said he was finally warm.

Well, most people relaxed. Simon had allowed Hank to leave Katya’s infirmary, even to take up residence during the day on the beach, well-wrapped up and supported, but insisting on so many regular check-ups that the pilot began to complain of being a pin-cushion. River nodded sagely, even as she assisted with the blood tests.

Zoe collared Mal in the cargo bay the first day, coming up silently behind him where he stood at the top of the lowered ramp, watching Jayne, Dillon, Sam and Breed manhandle Hank outside on a kind of sedan chair, all of them complaining vociferously.

“Mal.”

He didn’t jump, but it was a close-run thing. “Zoe.” He glanced at his first mate. “Is it that bad?”

“Sir?”

“You called me Mal. Usually that’s only when I do something really stupid.”

Her lips twitched faintly. “Not yet.”

“Hmmn.”

“Kaylee says everything’s smooth.”

“Shiny.”

“For a given value of smooth.”

He turned to look directly at her. “Should I be worried?”

“No, sir. I think she’s going to use a day or so here so she can do an overhaul.”

“Didn’t she just do one?”

“That was before people set off bombs on board.”

“True.” He gestured towards the sunshine and the small group moving away from the ship. “You know, if Hank keeps ordering them about they’re like to drop him.”

“It’s all bluster.”

“Yeah, well, he does have a way of –”

“Simon explained.”

And there it was. “About the … Hank’s leg.”

“Yes.”

“How did he … take it?”

“Hank’s Hank.”

“Pretty much.”

“He might pretend he’s a big kid, but he understands. We both do.”

Mal nodded. “So now what?”

“We wait.”

Zoe was his oldest friend, the reason on more than one occasion that he was still standing there, and wasn’t pushing up daisies on some fo