Sorry for the long wait. I've had writer's block. This is the last chapter in New Additions, but there will be a sequel to come. Since this story really just sets up this version of the 'verse, I promise the next part will have more action, and the time period won't jump around so much. Thanks to the few reviewers who consistently leave reviews!

Ages of the Kids: Tripp: 5 Kieran: 4 Emmy: 4 Spence: 3 Ali and Bert: 2 Minnie: 1

The Nanny

Serenity was turning into a nursery. All of the kids had become fast friends, including Emmy. They all thought that it was cool that tough Uncle Jayne had a daughter. She ended up being the daughter that Jayne hoped her to be: strong, tough, fun, but strangely girly when it came to clothes. She was probably the bravest one of all of the children, but she was also very polite and smart. Everyone assumed that that came from Narcissa's side of the family, since Jayne's family didn't have a large history of large brains. But as all of these new additions found their way on the boat (especially with the birth of Mal and Inara's daughter, Minnie, a few months after Emmy was “discovered”), it became apparent that they needed another new addition: a nanny. No matter what, there was always one child left unsupervised because the crew had to do their jobs. It also became increasingly hard to hide the true nature of their work from the children. Book usually kept them in check, but he was an old man and could use some help. Mal decided that a good place to find this wonder nanny of theirs would be Persephone, considering its large size and varied folk. He discussed the plan with the crew and, more importantly, with the children. “What's a tutor?” Kieran asked as soon as Mal had spit the word out. He was quick to pounce on people like that- and literally pounce on them as well. “It's like a teacher,” Tripp explained calmly. He was turning into a real leader, and it made his parents proud. He then turned back to listen to Mal intently. “Right,” Mal continued. “I don' know who we'll be pickin' up, but it's gonna be a somebody new.” “Shepherd won't watch us no more?” Emmy wondered. “No, he still will, but he needs some help,” Mal assured her. “In case you haven't noticed, there's a lot of you youngins, and there ain't but one of him. 'Sides, we need someone who's good at schooling.” “Book's a preacher,” Tripp pointed out. “Don't that mean something?” “Not the right kind of teachin', little Tripp,” Mal told him. “Bible teachin', but no math or English or history teachin'.” Mal cleared his throat and went on, “Anyway, just wanted to let you kiddies know.” “But Daddy, I don't want a teacher,” Spence complained. Mal took his son up into his arms and kissed him on the forehead. “Daddy'll get y'all a good teacher.” He surveyed the kids with a knowing smile. “Don' you worry.” *** After spending the entire morning in the various Persephone day care centers, Mal and Inara could find no one willing- much less competent- to take on the job. It was with heavy hearts that they entered the mechanic shop by the Eavesdown docks to pick some parts for Kaylee. The shop itself didn't lend a particularly inviting mood. Dingy and dank, it was the only place that would sell the expensive and rare part for a reasonable price. Mal coughed as he stepped into the place, the dirt and dust mucking up his nose. “The great captain has allergies?” Inara teased lightly as his eyes began to water. “It's one of my many weaknesses.” “I didn't know you admitted you had weaknesses.” “Yeah, well, that's one o' the perks o' bein' married to me,” he said with a funny smile. Inara rolled her eyes lightly, but goodnaturedly. “I didn't know there were any perks.” “I think that you should keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut 'fore you end up bein' my ex wife.” “Ah. I'd be your second, wouldn't I? Or are there others that I don't know about?” “What if I did have a few? You ain't got no room to talk, Miss Companion,” Mal smirked. He looked curiously at her and asked in a whisper, “So, now that we're married, do I getta hear any of them funny whorin' stories?” “Mal!” Inara reprimanded. “Women-folk,” he snorted. Then he looked at her glare and added, “... are the best folk in this 'verse. 'Specially my woman-folk-person.” Inara laughed. “Let's just get this part,” she said. A tall boy about River's age with spiky red hair, mounds of freckles, light blue eyes, and a soft, pale face. He looked sweet and innocent, and Mal already didn't like him. He was shuffling through a few parcels in the back and swearing under his breath for no reason. Mal cleared his throat and said, “You know, that swearin' of yours might put some disreputable ideas into your customers' heads.” The boy shot up and banged his head on the counter. “Gor-” He stopped mid-sentence and smiled with clenched teeth at Mal and Inara. “I mean, hello. How may I help you?” Even as he said this, he rubbed his hand on the bump on his head. “Jus' here to pick up some parts,” Mal told him, hiding a smile. At that moment, two boys, aged about three or four, raced through the shop with toy guns in their hands as they shot at each other made noises like they were speaking into microphones and ordering their brigades around. The boy sneered at the children and said, “Could excuse me for just a second?” Without waiting for an answer, he hurried over to the boys, who had decided that it would be a good idea to wrestle in the middle of a roomy filled with many sharp and pointy objects. Mal and Inara watched with interest. He ripped them apart forcibly, but not violently. “Hey, hey, you two, knock it off.” “But Palmer,” one of them whined. “We was just having some fun.” “Were,” Palmer corrected. “But have fun in the yard out back. It's too dangerous in here.” The other one piped up, “The yard's so boring. We've been in it all day long and we need some new hiding places. We've found all of the good ones already.” Palmer smirked. “Oh really?” They nodded confidently. “What about the one behind the tire stacks? There's a little hole back there. Perfect for secret ambushes.” “We ain't found that one,” the first boy piped up. “Haven't,” Palmer told him automatically. “Thanks, Palmer,” the second kid called as they ran off. As the boys kicked up a cloud of dust, a little girl came in a with a sheet of paper and a pencil and a confused look on her face. “Palmer, I don't get it,” she announced. “What's the problem?” He squatted down so that he was at eye level with the girl. She handed him the paper and he studied for a moment. “Ah. Multiplication. Yeah, this is pretty hard.” He scooted closer so that she could see the problem. “See this one here? Four times seven?” And then, much to Mal and Inara's great happiness, he went on to explain multiplication in very simple and easy to understand terns without giving the girl the answers. “This boy's the best we've seen all day,” Mal commented. “He does seem to be quite natural at it,” Inara agreed. Palmer made one of those lame, cheesy jokes that people always make to little kids or that dads make to their not-so-little kids and sent the girl back with the two boys, whose shouts could barely be heard. He sighed after them and turned back to his customers. “Sorry about that,” he apologized with a smile. “It's no problem,” Mal assured him. “We're in no hurry. But I do got a question for you.” “Sure,” Palmer said. “Shoot.” “Do you wanna leave this rock?” He looked taken aback by the odd question, but didn't say it. “I most certainly do. I only came here because it was a fairly large planet, so I thought that I might be able to find something to do. Lo and behold, I ended up here. In this gos se mechanic shop watching my xiān zhóu jiāo qiáo qiāo lā of a boss' children for nothing.” He sighed wearily. “But it's all I could find, and it's better than nothing.” “I'm gonna offer you a job,” Mal said sagely. “Okay...” “My ship's cargo ship by the name o' Serenity,” Mal began, leaning closer to the boy and whispering. “There's six kids on that boat, and they need to be watched. And schooled. You've got good grammar an' you know math and stuff and yer pretty good in the discipline department, so I want you. On my boat to tutor and nanny our little juniors.” “Flying? In the Black?” Mal nodded. “That is generally where we happen to be.” “I'll take it,” Palmer told him immediately. “When do you leave?” Mal clapped the kid on the shoulders. “As soon as you're ready.” “Right.” Palmer grinned broadly at the pair. Then he seemed to remember what he was supposed to be doing. He straightened up and cleared his throat. “So, um. Parts. What's your name?” “Malcolm Reynolds.” “Reynolds,” Palmer muttered as he shuffled through the orders that he had received. He found it quickly enough, but continued to look quizzically at Mal. “I don' generally like people starin' at me for no reason,” Mal said. “No, it's just that I'm trying to remember where I've heard your name before.” He drummed his fingers lightly on the counter for a moment before exclaiming, “That's it! You were a sergeant in the war, weren't you? An Independent? Mal tensed up and Inara reached out for his arm, hoping to prevent him from punching the poor boy. “That I was.” “It's just my uncle Jet Baylyn, was in you brigade, I think. Balls and bayonets?” Mal relaxed and laughed. “Yeah, I remember him. He was a good fighter and an even better man. How's he doin' now?” Palmer shrugged. “Fine. He's got a farm on, I think Shadow, yeah, and he's married, too. They've got a kid.” “That man would make a good father,” Mal commented. “Acted like one on the battlefield.” Palmer nodded. “So here's your part. I'll see you in an hour or so. I don't have much to pack. I'll wave my uncle and tell him about this meeting.” “This means a lot to us, Palmer,” Inara said with a smile. “You'll make good money.” Palmer shook his head. “I'm not concerned with the money. Just as long as it's enough to get by.” “It usually is,” Mal assured him. He took the part and they left Palmer smiling as he cleaned off the counter.

*** Hours later, Palmer arrived in Serenity's helm with a small suitcase in each hand and a big smile on his face. Everyone, including the kids, was assembled and looking at the red head quizzically. Mal wrapped an arm around Palmer's shoulders as he set his suitcases down. “This here's Jet Baylyn-” “Palmer,” Palmer corrected automatically. “Ain't good to already be messin' up names,” Kaylee chided. “Say, you ain't Jet's son, are you?” Zoe asked curiously. “Who's Jet?” Wash's stare was accusing, charming, and funny all at the same time. “Just somebody from the war, dear,” Zoe said with a sigh. “Right, well, that's Zoe,” Mal began to stop one of those awkward Zoe-Wash-marriage conversations from happening. “In the war, as previously stated. Those are her kids, Tripp an' Kieran. And that is her overly jealous, overly childish husband, Wash.” “Hey!” Wash called out indignantly. Then he paused for a moment. “Actually, that's not entirely not true. Except I would add overly cute.” “That you are,” Zoe agreed and gave him a kiss. “Ewww!” Tripp and Kieran chorused, covering their eyes. “Daddy, Mommy's gonna give you cooties if you keep doing that!” Tripp warned seriously. “I think that Uncle Jayne's gonna get cooties, too,” Jayne said. “That's some mighty ferocious girl energy ya got goin' on there.” “Jayne!” Inara reprimanded, but Wash and Zoe did stop kissing. “That's Jayne,” Mal stated obviously, pointing at the large and imposing man. He gave Palmer a trademark, sarcastic smile. “You might wanna watch out for him.” “Hey!” Emmy piped up. “My daddy isn't a meany.” “Easy, Emmy,” Jayne cautioned. “Don't want you to be gettin' into fights with Cap'n Mal. Might get Daddy fired.” “Emmy is Jayne's daughter,” Mal informed Palmer. “I can see the resemblance,” Palmer commented. He was referring to their looks, but Jayne automatically assumed that he was talking about their short tempers. “You wanna go, uh...” Jayne turned to Mal. “Who is he again?” “Palmer Baylyn,” Mal said slowly. “The nanny. The tutor.” “Nanny,” Jayne snorted. “Ain't girls supposed to be nannies?” Spence wondered. “Nope, little Spence,” Mal said. “Any can be a nanny, jus' woman-people have a monopoly on it.” “What's a monopoly?” Spence asked. “Later, sweetie,” Inara promised him. “Daddy's still talking.” “And that's Spence, and me and 'Nara's other kid, Minnie,” Mal introduced. “This here's Simon and Kaylee, and their kids, Ali and Bert. And that's Shepherd Book.” For some reason, hearing the word “Shepard” made Palmer flinch visibly. Mal raised his eyebrows at the boy's movements, but said nothing. “And last, but not least, this is River, Simon's sister.” Just like he had with Shepard Book, Palmer shifted upon hearing River's name. But inside him, him he didn't feel fear and apprehension like he had felt with the Shepard. Something that made him happy and made him feel at peace. Of course, that feeling changed dramatically when she uttered her next words. “Palmer Marshall Baylyn,” she began, pacing around him. Simon bit his lip nervously, but Kaylee shot a him a look that clearly said, “Let her be.” “Twenty-two years old, born on St. Alban's,” River continued. “Have red hair, but wasn't always that way. Used to be darker, browner. I like it better now. Had a good life at home. Liked it. Your brother and sister didn't. Wanted to leave. You left, too. You ran.” Her light tone turned suddenly sage-like. “When we ride the carousel, we ride the horses. No matter what animal we sit on, we always ride the horses.” She finished her little speech and skipped merrily off up the staircase and out of sight. Palmer's eyes looked ready to come right out of his head and his jaw was hanging wide open, his mind reduced to blubber. The children tittered at his look, burying their faces into their parents' pants to muffle the laughter. Being used to Auntie River's “oddities,” they loved to see new people puzzle over the girl. “How... wha... who...” The boy certainly wore his heart on his sleeve. “She's psychic,” Mal informed him. “Yeah, but then she was talking about horses. What does that mean?” “If you can figure it out, I will officially award you a shiny medal for bein' the smartest man in the 'verse.” *** Late that night, Palmer meandered out onto the bridge, wide awake and ready to do something. He always felt most alive when there were no lights on and the only sounds were his own breathing and the peaceful thumping of his heart. Here, only the lights above Kaylee and Simon's bunk (the sign on said bunk had been redone to say, “Simon and Kaylee's room”) lit his way. He could make out the stars shining from the window on the bridge, but that was it. On the bridge in Wash's chair sat Mal, who was busy staring out at the Black. He turned around rapidly when he heard the footsteps, an instinct that Palmer supposed came from his army days. “Oh, hey, Palmer? Watcha doin' up so late?” Palmer shrugged, taking Mal's hand gesture as a cue to sit down. “I like night. I think that my internal clock got flipped around.” Mal chuckled. “Well, this'll be heaven for you then. It's always night out here.” Palmer nodded, spinning around in his chair. Desperate for an end to the awkward pause, Mal said, “So what d'you think of my crew?” Palmer refocused his attention and replied, “They're a nice bunch. I like the kids. They do seem a bit reckless. Well, Emmy and Bert and Kieran, anyway. Wash and Zoe... I don't understand their relationship.” “Not nobody does,” Mal agreed. “Simon and Kaylee really love each other, don't they?” Mal smiled. “That they do.” “Thought so,” Palmer said. “I can tell by the look in their eyes. And his sister, River.” He hesitated. “She's not all there, is she?” “To the contrary, I think she's more there than most.”