River stepped down into the bunk, nervously fiddling with the small package she had in her hands. “Freya?” she asked. “Are you awake?”

The woman in the bed opened her eyes. “River,” she said, smiling, and sat up. “I wasn’t sleeping, just doing what your brother ordered me to.” River stared. “What is it?”

The girl gestured vaguely. “You’re …”

Freya glanced down and realised the sheet had fallen away from her body somewhat lower than she had expected. She lifted it to cover her breast. “Sorry,” she grinned. “I don’t actually own night wear.”

“I’m sure Mal doesn’t mind,” River said, coming a little closer.

“I thought you’d be here before now,” Freya said, pulling her knees up and hugging them. “Everyone else has been to see me already.”

“Congratulating you?”

Freya laughed. “And saying merry Christmas. It’s been … amazing.” She smiled. “So why haven’t you been before?”

River couldn’t look at her. “I couldn‘t. But I … I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

There was a surprised silence for a moment. “What for?”

“Nearly being the cause this didn’t happen.” River stared down at her hands.

“Honey, it wasn’t and could never be your fault,” Freya said firmly. “You didn’t hurt me because you wanted to.”

“I still did.” Two large salty drops splashed onto her wrist.

“Oh, River, don’t cry.” Freya moved forward in the bed. “Please.”

“I wish it hadn’t happened.”

“So do I, but …” Freya reached out her hand. “Mei-mei, I’m pregnant.”

River looked up and a smile flashed across her face. “I know.”

“I’m pregnant!” Freya repeated with such joy it would have melted even the hardest heart.

The young psychic’s grin widened. “I know!” she said excitedly, all her sorrow from a moment before forgotten. “Here,” she said, sitting down and holding out the parcel. “Merry Christmas.”

Freya chuckled. “Thank you. You didn’t have to, but thank you. Did Mal -”

“Yes, he did.” River lifted her left wrist to show the silver charm bracelet about it, the little silver Buddha, rocket and pony hanging together.

“Mal insisted on those particular ones, although I’ve no idea why,” Freya said, touching the spaceship.

“I love it, thank you.”

“You can add to it.”

“A baby would be good.”

Freya laughed. “I’ll see what we can do. And don’t annoy your brother like that,” she added. “Mal told me what you said.”

“But he’s so easy.”

“River …”

“Yes, momma.” She grinned and put her hand on Freya’s belly. “So small.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to know the sex?”

Freya looked into the young girl’s face. “I haven’t asked.”

“That’s not …” River paused, her eyes widening. “You know.”

“I -”

“You know already.”

Freya glanced down. “After Simon told me, lying here, I tried …” She nodded, looking up, her eyes shining brightly. “I do know.”

River hugged herself with excitement. “Oh …” she whispered.

“You mustn’t tell Mal,” Freya said quickly. “Not about any of this.”

“I wouldn’t. It will be our secret.”

“It may not mean anything,” Freya warned. “Just the hormones or something, or Grace, temporarily opening …” She stopped.

River nodded. “I won’t, not until you are sure.“ She glanced towards the upper deck. “He’s going to be such a good father. He already is.” She hitched closer. “Daddy wouldn’t have come for us on Jiangyin. Or Osiris. But Mal did.”

“So he’s the surrogate father?”

“As you’re the mother.”

Freya stared. “Is that …what you see me as?”

“I see you as many things. Just like Mal does.”

“But as a mother?”

“He does, as wife, lover, fighter, mother of his children ... So will you. Very soon.” River tapped the parcel still lying unopened. “You’ll see.”

Freya smiled and picked up the package, undoing the red ribbon that held it together. Peeling back the paper she found a small picture, lovingly rendered in pencil and coloured paint. “Oh, River …”

It was of Freya and Mal, only because it was River’s work, Freya was standing at the back, one hand on her gun, the other on Mal’s shoulder where he was sitting down holding a baby on his lap. There was just the suggestion of floral fabric around his knees …

“It’s lovely.” Freya laughed gently. “Perfect. When did you do this?”

“Seven weeks ago.”

“You knew.”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“The moment of conception.”

“And you didn’t say anything.”

“It wasn’t my secret.”

“Thank you.” Freya went back to studying the picture.

“I did one of you and Grace, too, but I haven’t framed that yet.”

“I’d like it.”

“I’ll bring it down.”

Freya smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“Frey, I have to … I was jealous,” River admitted.

“Of what, sweetie?”

“Grace. How close you were. So quickly.”

Freya looked up in surprise. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“Not avoiding. But I was jealous of your compassion for her. Your caring.”

“River, you never seemed to want it. You have Simon, Kaylee … everyone on board.”

“I needed you.” River edged closer. “So alike, you understand me. No matter how hard Simon tries, he can’t. And I don’t want Kaylee to even begin to.”

Freya nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry if I haven’t … River?” The young girl had started to cry again, and Freya leaned forward, gathering her into her arms. “Oh, baby.” She stroked her hair, letting her sob out all the tension. After a long while, she calmed, laying quietly, and Freya picked up the picture again. “Did you … do one of …”

River reached into the pocket of her dress and removed a folded sheet, handing it over.

Freya carefully opened it out. “Alice?” she asked, a lump in her throat, looking at the wide blue eyes, the long brown hair, so much of Mal in her.

River nodded. “I knew you’d want it.”

“She would have been beautiful,” Freya said, tears of her own sliding down her cheek.

“And he will be handsome,” River said, laying a hand on Freya’s belly.

“Don’t tell Mal.”

“I won’t.” ---

Hank was staring at the stars, his leg hitched over the arm of the pilot’s chair. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for … maybe a single bright light to show him the right path. He smiled. Never did see himself as one of the wise men, particularly as there wasn’t much choice amongst the rest of the males of the crew if you took Mal out of the equation. Simon, now yes, there was a wise man, Mr Top Three Percent, no matter he didn’t act like it at times. But otherwise there was only Jayne, and by no stretch of the imagination could he … although maybe it wasn’t that much of a stretch. If you took wisdom as knowledge, then maybe Jayne was as wise as the rest of them. Not book learning maybe, but he sure had a lot of skills, some of them not even dubious.

Hank couldn’t help it - he chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Zoe asked, stepping onto the bridge and joining him.

He turned to look at her and grinned. “Jayne as a Magi.”

Zoe’s lips twitched. “Kinda freezes the blood.”

“Quicker’n a space vacuum,” Hank agreed. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Dreams.” She sat down in the co-pilot’s chair and picked up one of the dinosaurs.

“Wash?”

“Mmn.” It was the stegosaurus, the one her husband had always called Steve. “I decided to come and keep you company instead. If you want it.”

“I hope you’re talking to me and not that toy,” Hank said.

“I was.”

“Then I’d welcome your company. As always.”

She looked up at him and smiled, a tender, gentle smile that made him want to reach out and take her in his arms. “Been thinking,” she said, putting Steve back on the console.

“About what?”

“Putting these away.”

Hank shook his head. “You can’t do that, honey. They ain’t yours to hide. They belong to everyone, to Serenity.”

“But Wash is dead.” There. She’d managed to say it without the catch in her voice. “Maybe it’s time to move on.”

“Zoe, as much as I hate to say this, you don’t mean it. Not yet.” A light flashed on the board in front of him and he reached out, correcting something without really seeing it. “And I can understand. I’ll wait.” He laughed. “Waited long enough already.”

“Not as long as Freya.”

“No,” he agreed. “But she’s special.”

“That she is.” There was a long pause, then Zoe spoke again. “I just feel like I’m teasing you somehow.”

“Zoe, my sweet, this kind of teasing I can live with.” He grinned. “It don’t do my body much good, I’ll admit, but …” He sat forward so he was leaning towards her. “I know how much you loved Wash. Never met the man but I know. How much you still do. And like I said, and keep saying, I ain’t trying to take his place. But …” He licked his lips. He had to say it, today of all days he had to admit it to her. “I love you, Zoe.”

She didn’t scream, or hit him, or run away. She just looked at him, her dark face smooth. Then she smiled. “I know.”

“Good.”

“I can’t say it back,” she added quickly.

“I know.” He grinned just a little, pain still showing in his eyes. “But I ain’t lying here dead so that’s a good sign.”

She stood up, and he was suddenly afraid she was going to walk out on him, but instead she stepped closer, sitting into his lap and putting her arms around his neck. He slid his own around her waist. “You’re a strange man, Hank Mills,” she said wonderingly.

“That I am.” His embrace tightened. “And if you don’t find that incredibly off-putting, I’m gonna hang around until you either shoot me or take me into your bed. Whichever comes first.”

“You think I’m gonna shoot you?”

“Eventually.” He put a quick kiss on her lips. “Risa did.”

“Your wife shot you?”

“By accident, but she was threatening me at the time.”

“You’d pissed her off?”

“Royally.” He smiled at the memory of his wife. “Somehow I seemed to find it so easy to do.”

“I have to say you ain’t changed much.”

“But that’s the point. I know what it’s like to lose the one person you think is gonna be the only love of your life. Took me a long time to figure out she wouldn’t want me to waste it.”

“And you think I’m wasting mine?”

“Only in being nice to me.”

“You are definitely odd.” She leaned over and lifted his face, her hands under his chin and in his hair, fastening her mouth on his, and he moaned. “Am I too heavy for you?” she asked, breathing into him.

“I been working out.”

“I noticed.” She touched his tongue with hers. “Looking good.” She felt him smile.

“Oh, God, Zoe …” He pulled her closer, feeling her mould to him.

“I ain’t sleeping with you, Hank,” she said, his heat against her body.

“Okay,” he murmured. “But if it takes forever, I’ll wait.”

She smiled. Somehow she doubted it was going to take that long.

Mal watched his first mate and his pilot sitting together, their bodies shaped against each other, and felt an odd sense of déjà vu. Shaking his head he stepped down the ladder into his bunk, then paused. He didn’t know what the opposite of déjà vu was, possibly some kind of premonition, but the sight in front of him made him smile.

Freya was lying back, her arms around River, both of them fast asleep. She had a smile on her face and he felt his love for her swell in his chest until he could barely breathe. That she was his, that she was carrying his child inside her, made him want to thank a deity he no longer believed in, but he figured anything out there already knew how he felt.

There was a small picture on the blanket and he picked it up. Now he couldn’t help but grin. The girl certainly had talent, although he’d never, to his recollection, worn a green floral dress. The colour just didn’t suit him. He stood it up against the bulkhead on the table and turned to look at the two women.

Not wanting to disturb them he tugged his boots off and carefully climbed up the end of the bed until he was behind Freya. He pressed his body against hers, feeling her lean back into him even though she didn’t wake, and he wrapped his arms around her. Small fingers entwined with his and he realised a sleeping River had taken his hand. He closed his eyes, the spirit of the season filling him with a sense of calm that had him asleep in moments.