“You know, I ain’t too sure about this.” Mal eyed the cut-throat razor with some unease.

“You use it all the time,” Freya said, using the horsehair brush to stir up foam on the soap.

“Yeah. But it ain’t gonna be me doing the shaving.”

She smiled at him. “Don’t you trust me?”

“’Course I do!” he protested. “It’s just …”

“Then sit down.” Freya had moved the only chair in the room into the centre of the floor, and now she pointed at it with the brush. “I promise not to hurt you.”

Mal still had misgivings. “You done this a lot?” he asked, still standing next to their bunk, wearing only a pair of pants, not even buttoned all the way up.

“Once or twice,” Freya agreed.

“Who? I think I should wave them, see if they’re still around.” He nodded towards the razor. “Make sure they ain’t lying somewhere with their throats cut.”

“Be messy if they were,” Freya said, turning to look at him. “Sit.”

“So who was it?” Mal persisted.

Freya smiled and sighed at the same time. “Well, there was the captain of the Lancaster I crewed on before the war. He got hurt one time and couldn’t do it himself, and he didn’t trust the rest of the men.”

“Thought they might decide they could run things better?”

“No,” Freya said. “But some of them had the shakes so bad he didn’t want to end up having his nose removed.”

Mal couldn’t help the mental image. “But he let you?”

“Said it was the best shave he’d ever had.” She glanced at the chair. “So, you gonna sit or do I get Jayne to tie you down?”

“That’s not fair,” he complained, reluctantly taking a seat. She stepped closer to him, the thin robe she was wearing falling open slightly. “Best do that up,” he added. “Else we ain't gonna do any shaving today at all.”

Freya laughed and tightened the knot. “Now,” she said. “Don’t move.” * Kaylee looked at herself in the mirror she had just bought, adjusting it so she could see the top half of herself. She’d really have liked the full-length one the salesman had been keen on, but there just wasn't the space in her bunk. If Inara had been home she could have used hers, but she was off having sex somewhere. This wasn’t perfect, but it had to do. She undid the top of her coveralls, pulling them from her shoulders to hang around her hips, and turned to look, lifting her t-shirt.

A slight bulge, she thought, but that might just be because she wasn't standing straight. She pulled herself up, but … no, it was still there. She ran her fingers lightly across the skin. Hard to believe it was a baby. Simon had said it was healthy, growing well, but she still found it hard to believe she had a child inside her. She shook her head. No matter how many pictures he showed her, grinning widely all the time, she still …

She glanced at the bed, at the small pillow nestling at the end … * “How the hell do you ever hit anything?” Jayne asked, eyeing River’s grip critically. “Looks like the damn gun’s gonna fall out of your hand ‘cos it’s too heavy.”

River looked down at the pistol, one of Jayne’s. “If it works, why change it?” she asked.

“It just looks … wrong,” the big man finished awkwardly.

River smiled glanced down at the target Jayne had set up on the scrubland outside Serenity, and pursed her lips. “Are you sure that’s far enough away?” she asked. “We don’t want to make this too easy.”

“It’s far enough for now,” Jayne said, checking the cartridge in Phoebe. “Just you make sure you know where you’re aiming. I ain’t in the mood for your brother to get all prissy over you shooting me.”

“I’d never shoot you,” River said sincerely. “Not unless I meant it.”

Jayne looked at her askance, then settled himself ready for their little competition. * “All I said was that it wouldn’t hurt you to come out for a drink!”

“And I said I didn’t want to.” Zoe took the filled mug back to the table and sat down, the inventory for their last job in front of her. “What is so difficult that you don’t understand?”

“I’m a nice guy, once you get to know me,” Hank insisted. “I don’t hit people, I’m kind to children and animals, I don’t even snore … and I'm willing to spend every penny I have on you.”

“Really.” She did not look impressed. “That little.”

“Okay, maybe I ain't rich. But I'm clean.” He sat down opposite her.

“If I wanted that I’d get a cat.”

“But I'm here already.” He grinned at her, his untidy brown hair standing on the crown of his head. “Don’t have to feed me, water me …”

“You know what they do to cats, don’t you?” Zoe asked. “When they’re toms, and have too much testosterone, going out annoying the lady cats?”

Hank winced. “Ow, Zoe! That’s not nice!” He crossed his legs under the table.

She hid the slight twitch of her lips with her coffee cup. * He was so young, she thought, playing her hands up and down his back as if it were a piano. An arpeggio there, a glissando here, and he was ready.

“Wuh de ma!” he groaned, closing his eyes. He collapsed onto her, and she stroked his shoulder, smiling slightly.

“My boy,” Inara murmured. * The cushion hadn’t fitted inside the coveralls, so Kaylee had changed into her pretty dress. Not the ballgown, but the floral one she wore when Simon took her out. There was just enough room at the waist, if she didn’t pull the ties too tight. Once again she looked into the mirror.

“Oh,” she breathed at the sight. It didn’t look like her. The dress seemed to bloom around the cushion, making her arch her back a little. She ran her hands down the bump, cradling it underneath.

She was concentrating so much that she didn’t notice Simon climbing down the ladder behind her. He stood for a moment, his arm through the rungs, smiling. She looked so … so beautiful.

“Can’t wait?” he asked softly, and she span on her heel.

“Simon!” she yelped.

“Did I scare you?” He stepped into the room.

“No, I … I was just …” She went to pull the cushion from under the dress, but he put his hand on hers, stopping her.

“Don’t,” he said. “I think it suits you.” He smiled at her.

“I was … I wanted to know how I’d look,” Kaylee admitted, turning back to the mirror.

“And what do you think?” he asked, stepping close enough so he could put his arms around her, holding the cushion as if it were really his child inside.

“Kinda sexy,” Kaylee said quietly. “Though that’s probably some kind of perversion.”

“You are sexy,” Simon agreed. “And it’s not just how you look … it’s something inside you.”

“You really think that?”

He turned her around so she was facing him. “I think you are the sexiest woman I have ever met.”

“Sexier than Inara?”

“Yes.”

“Zoe?”

“Even Zoe.”

“Freya?”

Simon paused. “Well, maybe not –“

She hit him, then decided he didn’t mean it, and kissed him as well. She could feel he was smiling, and pressed herself closer to him. After a long minute they broke apart.

“I've never made love to a pregnant woman before,” he admitted. “At least, not …” He mimed a large bulge at his own waist.

“You think I'm gonna get that big?” Kaylee asked, laughing. “It ain't twins, Simon.”

“No, but …” He put his arms around her. “You are going to look so amazing.”

“I’ll be big as Serenity, the way you were talking,” Kaylee pointed out, snuggling into him around the cushion. Then she looked up to glare into his eyes. “And when did you make love to a pregnant woman before?”

“I mean you,” Simon assured her, kissing the end of her nose.

“Good,” Kaylee said. “Just so long as we’re clear on that.” * “Ha!” Jayne crowed. “You missed!”

“No I didn’t,” River said, dropping her arm. “It went through one of the holes I’d already made.”

“Yeah, sure it did,” Jayne said. “’N’ I didn’t see it kick dirt three feet to the left, did I?”

“All right,“ River agreed. “But something distracted me. You coughed.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Well that don’t make no difference,” Jayne said. “You still lost.”

“That’s not fair.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“You said you could out-shoot me,” the big man pointed out. “Just proved you can’t.”

“You cheated.”

“Hell, girl, you play fair, you lose!” He grinned. “Looks like I don’t have to empty that septic tank this week after all.”

“Two out of three,” River demanded, flicking her dark hair back.

“Now why should I do that?” Jayne asked.

“Then something else. Double or nothing.” River nodded firmly.

“You sure about this?”

“You chicken?”

Jayne glared at her then laughed out loud. “Girl, you got some on you, that’s for sure. Okay. But I get to choose.” He grinned evilly. “Let’s see how much you can bench press.” * “You’ve got nothing I want,” Zoe said firmly.

“How can you hurt me like this?” Hank asked. “Here I am, offering you my heart, and several other parts of my body, and you kick me when I'm at my most vulnerable.”

“Hank, you do not want me. I'm just the only available woman on the ship,” Zoe pointed out.

“That ain’t true!” the pilot said. “If anything I think Inara’s probably … although I couldn’t afford her rates even if I saved up … and River’s too young …” He sighed. “Won’t you take pity on me?”

“No.”

“You’re so cruel,” he cried, clasping his hands to his chest. “You have broken my heart into a million pieces.”

“Only a million?” Zoe stood up, looking down into his grey eyes. “That’s hardly enough.”

He stared at her, then dropped his head onto his arms, pretending to cry. Zoe sighed, shaking her head, and headed for the door.

“This ain’t over!” Hank called as she stepped over the sill. “I ain’t going anywhere.”

Zoe smiled to herself. Don’t mind if you don’t, she thought. * “That was … thank you,” the young man said, bowing low over her hand.

Inara smiled. “It was my pleasure,” she said.

“Will you tell my father …” He swallowed and stopped.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” He bowed again, smiling awkwardly, then almost ran out of the shuttle.

She sighed. So many young men nowadays. Unless she was getting older. They all seemed so eager …

She picked up the dress she’d bought for Kaylee, holding it up against herself and stroking the soft, smooth fabric. It was going to look so pretty, and its fluid construction meant the young mechanic could wear it right up until she gave birth. She smiled, this time the genuine article as she imagined the look on the girl’s face. And at least she’d finished, and could head back. Go home. * The blade slid smoothly across his skin, slicing through the softened bristles. He watched her intently, noting how her mouth was open in concentration, and every so often she would stick her tongue out just a little, particularly when she was having to negotiate a tricky bit.

She moved astride him, lifting his face up so she could see exactly what she was doing, pulling the razor in long strokes down his cheeks, and he couldn’t help himself. His hands came up of their own volition, pushing her robe higher so he could touch the skin of her thighs.

“You do that and you might have to go through life without an ear,” she pointed out, wiping the razor on the towel perched on his shoulder.

“Simon can stick it back on again,” Mal said, not removing his hands. “He’s had the practice.” He began to stroke her flesh.

“Sit still,” she said, wriggling a little. “I’m not finished.”

“You’re taking your time,” he complained.

“You want it to be perfect, don’t you?” she asked, holding his chin and looking into his blue eyes.

“Hey, I never suggested this in the first place!”

“Days like this, when we got nothing to do, you don’t shave, and I'm getting stubble burn,” she explained.

“I do shave.”

“Then you don’t stand close enough to the razor.”

“Frey …”

She took hold of his nose, making him open his mouth to be able to breathe, and swiped the blade across his top lip. “There!” she said in triumph. “Done!”

He removed one hand from her thigh and felt his chin. “Seems okay,” he said grudgingly.

“Okay?” She moved back a little. “Just okay?”

He grinned and took hold of her waist. “Feels good,” he admitted.

“I’ll have you know they were queuing up on the Lancaster for me to shave them,” she said indignantly.

“I doubt it was the real reason,” he pointed out. “Not if you wore this little thing.” He lifted the robe in his hands, bunching the fabric in his fingers until he could reach her buttocks.

“I only wear this for you,” she murmured, sitting further forward on his lap.

“Glad to hear it,” Mal said, his voice becoming huskier. “You still got that razor in your hand?”

She grinned and tossed it onto the table. “Still afraid of what I might do with it?” she asked.

“Woman, there are portions of my anatomy that I don’t want a blade anywhere near,” he said. “Yours, on the other hand …”

She laughed and kissed him soundly.