“Firefly” is a work of genius, so obviously it isn't mine. All hail Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. And any studio with brains enough to support them.

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THE ONLY SENSIBLE THING TO DO

I couldn't believe it. She wanted me. This beautiful, strong, intelligent and infinitely desirable woman with her glorious black curls and bottomless eyes wanted me. ME! Not at first. Obviously. Because she was out of my league and we both knew it. She regarded me with a kind of amused contempt. And whenever I felt her eyes on me, I automatically became awkard and did something stupid. The more I craved her good opinion, the less I did to earn it.

I wanted her from the very first time I laid eyes on her. It was like a kick to the stomach, it hit me so hard. So I pretended to be all professional and serious. Interested only in earning a living, securing a job.

But – slowly, gradually – the contempt in her eyes was replaced by something else. First, admiration. Because I am ruttin' good at my job. I'm cool under pressure and I can always be relied on to get it done. Then, I saw sympathy. Cos sometimes I screw up and that makes me angry at myself and miserable. I'd see her looking at me like a mother wanting to soothe away a child's pain and frustration. But then – to my intense and joyful amazement – I saw desire in her. A flicker of heat warming her gaze, making her eyelids flutter. It made me shiver and tingle all over.

And finally, love. Glittering like stars in the Black.

She was like no woman I'd ever met. And I've known a lot. Had a lot of fun, way back then. Always was a very 'up' person and women like that. Make 'em laugh and they're putty in your hands. Don't think I can remember a single one of 'em's name now. Can hardly even remember their faces. It was all very light-hearted and short-lived. A girl in every dock, that was me.

But she was something else. To tell the truth, she kinda scared me. The way she made me feel. Serious. Gorramit! She made me want stop sowing wild oats and settle