Mal staggered slowly through the cargo bay, limping heavily, Zoë following some distance behind.

“Harriet!” he bellowed, “HARRIET!!” He was listing fearfully, his pace slowing and becoming more erratic as the limp became more pronounced. He swung awkwardly round, “*Ta ma duh!* Zoë, get on the comm. Find me my wife!” His voice was tetchy. Zoë nodded seriously and moved purposefully towards the comm. But before she could hit the button, she paused, looking up and smiling slightly in greeting.

“Would you be lookin’ for me, light of my life?” asked a cool and ever so slightly amused voice from the catwalk above the bay. Hat leant over the balustrade with Inara watching Mal’s ungainly progress through the hold, neither seeming too disturbed by his impediment.

“Harriet, get down here and help me out, would ya?” asked Mal, a hint of a whine had crept into his voice as he indicated his limp. Hat’s gaze travelled with Mal’s down to the cause of his difficulty. A small blonde boy of about 18 months was wound round his leg, clinging on determinedly with the same set look to his small, square jawed face and the same steely look of resolve in his bright blue eyes as could often be seen on the face of the man he clung to, who was, undoubtedly, his father.

Hat, wandering down the stairs with Inara to get a closer look, shrugged. “He’s yer son, Mal. Just pull him off.”

“Can’t” Mal looked worried. “Gorramit, Hat. He’ll hate me! You do it!”

Zoë stood to one side watching amusedly with her arms crossed. “Everyone hates you, Sir. Never bothered you before.”

Mal glared at her and started to protest, “Everyone does not HATE me. I am a good and enlightened lead’ ….” He broke off with a yelp, “Hat, he’s reached my holster now! Zoë, I’m ordering you, as yer Captain! You know, the one you obey unquestioningly? Do something!”

“*Jen mei NAI-shing duh FWO-tzoo*! Mal, could you act a bit grown up for just a moment?” Inara sounded irritated as she stepped down into the bay. “For God’s sake, pick the blessed c