Tommy struggled to hold River as she tried to break out of their room and get down to the fight. No easy task by anyone’s standards, and he was succeeding, marginally, only because she didn’t want to hurt him. So, he barred the door against her, all the time talking to her in a rapidly-breaking voice. “River, xin gan, if you haven’t noticed, your pregnant ! And it can’t be no good for the baby if ya go out and go fightin’. Simon can handle it-“

“SIMON!!!!!”

***

He didn’t have his medicine bag. Go-se! Without his bag of tricks, he would have to use whatever the house had. Joy, on many levels.

He turned to his Mother-in-law and wife, who were gazing in horrified fascination of James. Simon spoke to them in a gentle voice. He would have to act fast. The cold was coming. Fast.

He did what he could to stem the flow of blood that was seeping out of the wound. It was deep, but not all that threatening to James’s life. It would just be really, really painful! After about five minutes, the two women came back, arms full to the brim with bottles, gauzes, and a large half full bottle of Bourbon. 2017, a good year.

Before starting, Simon looked around the room. Mal, Zoë, Jayne, and two other Frye’s with shotguns were at the windows, shooting out at the closest Reavers outside. The ship that was outside was now landed, all its occupants disgorged, in favor of the usual massacre. No one wanted to miss this. There were two more Frye’s in the kitchen, shooting out the windows there. In all, some seven people were shooting at the Reavers. And, wouldn’t you know it, most of ‘em were charging the house, cuz they had circled the wagons, and now they had to break it. Again, joy.

Simon grinned wryly and started working. He put some liquor around the wound, and gripped the knife. James gasped as the knife smoothly slid out of him. It turned into a scream of pain when Simon poured some of Bourbon on it to clean it. No matter who you are, that hurts. Simon bunched some of the gauze