The dining room was dark except for the dim glow of the lamp in the middle of the table and those few lights kept on above the cabinets. Kaylee’s green parasol-tree was the only other thing sitting there. Mingled voices echoed up through the aft stairway. Then Wash’s voice cut through the rest. “Wuh de tyen, ah! Who hung a grenade on the tree?” Zoe was carrying a heavily loaded tray with glasses and a pitcher down to the lounge outside the infirmary. Almost at the bottom of the stairs, she stopped to shake her head after her husband’s words. “Jayne?” “What? It’s symbolic.” The lounge wasn’t a large space to begin with. Now mostly filled by the new tree and the rest by full of passengers and crew, it was cozy in the extreme. “Symbolic? Of what? Sudden death?” Wash asked. Simon leaned in close to Kaylee, who was trying hard to place her one strand of lights to the best effect on the larger tree. “I suppose it’s lucky you thought to put the tree down here so we’re conveniently near the infirmary.” The smile spread across Kaylee’s face like sunrise. “Aw, you made a joke!” “It’s not funny,” River stated, popping up from behind them. “Mei mei….” Simon turned but she was already gone, jumping with feline grace onto the arm of a chair to place another origami swan near the top of the tree. “Pineapples.” Jayne said. Exasperation showed clearly on his face when no one responded. “Ain’t anyone here a history buff besides me? Grenades’re lots of the time compared to pineapples. Pineapples was always traditional symbols of welcome on Earth-That-Was. It’s a way of saying, ‘welcome’ to the baby Jesus.” “Ohhhh. Well then.” Wash’s whole body relaxed for a beat, then snapped back to rigid. “Take it off the tree.” They stood toe to toe, frowns on both of their faces, Jayne’s chin thrust out in a pout and making him look like more of a Neanderthal than usual. Zoe made her way over, carefully, the rising smell of hot spiced red wine intoxicatingly nostalgic. The light in her eyes promised a very merry night to come as she fixed them on her husband’s. “Honey. Take the tray? Jayne. What Wash said.” Jayne’s jaw poked out even farther as he snatched the grenade off the tree. Wash smiled and took the tray through to the infirmary where the leveled examination table was temporarily serving as buffet. “My man,” Zoe said sliding her hands down his back. Together they rearranged the dishes of food to accommodate the new offering. It was a rich banquet spread out on a purple shawl the new passenger had donated for the tablecloth: a bowl of apples and pears, some cheese and bread, and now the wine. There was precious little left of their share of the profits, but for a rare moment, they would enjoy and share their joy. And not worry about tomorrow. Worth every last credit in Zoe’s opinion. She wrapped her arms around Wash’s waist and snuggled up to him. Contentedly they both turned to watch the goings on from a distance. Kaylee had just pulled herself on tiptoe and planted a kiss on Book’s cheek. “Just wanted to thank you. Again. Musta cost a pretty penny, a tree that big and real.” “Not so much, really,” Book said blushing and trying to shrug it off. “I had a little put by. And I’m of the mind that money doesn’t have any value until you spend it.” Kaylee smiled and shook her head at him. And continued shaking her head, but in earnest as she saw what Jayne was now trying to add to the ornaments. “Don’t you put that on there!” She grabbed his knife away then in a more gingerly grip, handed it back to him holding the handle between thumb and forefinger. “It’s looked nice, all polished and silver. We need something more…twinkley stead a just folded paper n stupid, plastic dinosaurs.” Jayne sheathed his knife after using it to tweak on the ornaments in question: Wash’s stegosaurus which now sported a loop of red ribbon round its middle. “Jayne, why not have some wine and relax?” Book placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’d say you’ve already contributed enough. It wouldn’t feel like a real tree without a star on top and that was a great sacrifice on your part.” “Well.” Jayne tilted his head by way of a nod. “Glad someone appreciates that.” “Be our guest,” Wash said after Jayne gulped down an entire glass of hot wine and poured himself another. “Wine’s good.” Jayne noticed Zoe and Wash’s silence. “Dinosaurs maybe aren’t that stupid.” “Right. It’s just a shame they aren’t more…how did you put it? ‘Twinkley’?” Zoe waited till Jayne stalked away. “Treading on thin ice, dear.” “Yes, but I enjoyed that. I’m immensely satisfied. And relieved.” He paused, pulled Zoe closer, “And did I say? Satisfied.” Book was happy to stand in a quiet corner and view the scene before him. Simon and River were folding more ornaments. Kaylee was directing their placement on the branches with Jayne assigned to the upper ones and their new passenger to fill the lower. It was a decidedly odd looking tree with its one strand of lights, beribboned dinosaurs and palm trees scattered among patterned paper birds and frogs, and the treetop star of yellow yarn. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a better one. A clatter of footsteps on the stairway announced Mal’s late arrival. The captain took no notice of Book as he swept past and pulled up short at the buffet table. “You two look mighty pleased,” Mal commented. He nibbled at a piece of the fresh bread and sighed in appreciation before putting it on his plate. “Hmm. Got no call not to be,” Zoe replied. He toasted her and Wash with a sip from the glass he just filled. “Good wine.” “So we’ve been told,” Wash said. Mal noticed neither of them was paying much attention to him. They were wrapped up in their own private world. He couldn’t blame them savoring such moments, but it was just another reason to get back to the bridge. He took deeper sip of wine – a little too much -- and it went down hot. His head jerked up to gulp in a breath of air to cool his aching throat. And noticed the new passenger eyeing Book from behind the tree. Her sharp study of the preacher sent the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. Then she laughed at something Kaylee said to Jayne – not just a polite laugh but genuine and warm -- and Mal wondered if he was being paranoid by habit, not reason. Still. He stayed put, watching just a while longer to see if she did anything else that might cause the alarms to go off in his brainpan. Nothing. “I’ll be heading back then,” he said, still looking ahead at the woman. “I could take a turn. A bit later. If you need me to.” His face softened at the contrast between Zoe’s words and her delivery. “No need. Enjoy yourselves.” “Captain.” Mal paused a step past the infirmary threshold. “Shepherd!” “Glad you could join us.” “Just come to fill up a plate fore I head on back to the bridge. Someone’s got to fly this thing.” “Oh? Autopilot malfunctioning?” “Nothing wrong with it. Just…feel better keeping an actual eye out.” Book raised his eyebrows, but let it pass. The captain wasn’t one to be pushed. But a gentle nudge every once in awhile wasn’t out of the question. Mal hadn’t openly applauded the snowballing festivities, but he hadn’t showed any disapproval either and that was a step in the right direction as far as Book was concerned. One day, he and the captain might actually come to sit down and have a serious discussion on faith, how people lost it. And how it always was waiting to be found again. For now, it was enough that the Christmas spirit was starting to fill this ship, whether or not the captain completely approved.

Mal was contemplating the oddity that he for once felt lonely on the bridge – could be that Wash’s dinosaurs were elsewhere – when Zoe came up from behind and dropped a small paperbound package in his lap. “What’s this?” “A little something from Wash and me. Open it.” “Later maybe. You notice anything unusual going on?” His first mate sat down in the copilot’s seat. Like old times before Wash or the preacher or the Tams or…. He up-ended his wine glass, but it was already dry. “I have noticed something now you mention it,” Zoe said. “Right at this moment, I can’t find anything to worry about.” “Everything’s going real well. Smooth. No bumps or bruises. No money troubles. Ship’s holding together.” Mal paused a long while and Zoe didn’t break the silence either. “Makes me nervous.” “Same here, sad to say.” Zoe’s quiet, deep-throated laugh carried over to him and he had to laugh himself. She let out a long sigh. “So, we’ve come to this. Worrying about having nothing to worry about. There’s the passenger. We could worry about her.” “A calculating one for sure. Not that that don’t come in handy now and again, but….Thought it was the doc, she reminded me of at first – just not good with people. But I’m thinking now it’s more like that Atherton fellow.” “That guy stuck you with a sword long time ago way back on Persephone?” “Very well-mannered at first glance. Wasn’t though.” “Thought that was mainly because you hit him.” “Well. There was that.” “You think this Piera Melathene’s one to keep an eye on?” “Can’t put a finger to it, but she’s a mite too keen on observing our shepherd.” The phrasing made Zoe look over at him, which he tried to ignore. “You going to open that?” she asked. He was worried at what she meant, then came the dawn. “Oh. The package.” The folded paper opened like a flower once he found the trick to it. Inside there was a small, capture picture frame. The screen was blank. He turned it on and saw the memory was already half full of possible selections. “There’s snapshots of the crew on there. All the crew. Some room for more, you ever want to make them.” Zoe was making a point to warn him and hinting at something he knew he didn’t want to think about just then. He put it back in the paper and placed it carefully off to the side. “You’re welcome,” Zoe said standing up. “Thank you.” Belated, but Zoe’s smile said she didn’t hold it against him. “Sure you don’t want me to—“ “Go back and have a good time. Thank Wash for me.” She left, still with a gentle curve to her lips. Mal smiled, too. Till a thought struck him. He shouted back to her, “Keep an eye on Jayne!”

Wash had been waiting until she came back to hand out the other gifts they’d bought. It was difficult waiting with River picking up and staring at each package in turn, then calling out a guess to what it was – all of which happened to be right. “Time to hand the gifts out,” Wash announced with desperate relief the second he saw his wife. “Problem?” “Nope, but don’t expect anyone to be surprised,” he warned her. Book had packages for some, too, but he’d held them back in his quarters. Seemed it was time to go get them. He tried to slip out unnoticed, should have known Zoe had too sharp an eye. “You can’t escape that easy, Shepherd. We’ve got one for you, too.” “So I’ve heard.” A jar of dried rosemary by River’s account, of which he had little doubt. “I’ll be right back.” It wouldn’t take him long to gather the small gifts from his quarters, but he thought better of going directly for them and checked the buffet table first. They were running low on bread and cheese and those at least there was more of. Zoe had been working as hostess long enough. He thought to fill in for her -- another little gift as it were. Alone up in the kitchen, he finished humming some old carol as he sliced up the last of the bread. He picked up the tray and turned to find Piera Melathene standing there in the dark. An uncomfortable sense of déjà vu swept through him. “Was there something else we needed?” He tried to study her face, but it was deep in shadow. “Not that I’m aware of.” She folded her arms, tucking her hands inside the flowing sleeves of her gown. “You really care about them, all of them.” “Peculiar question considering what you know to be my calling. But let me clear up any misconceptions before they take root. I do care. Deeply. And not just because it’s my job.” “No. I can see that.” “These people are my friends, my family you might say.” His tone had the edge of a threat in it and he meant her to take it that way. There was beginning to be more of interrogation than conversation in her questions. “And I’d say they feel the same way about you – even that roughneck…Jayne. And the brother and sister. River and Simon…Tam, isn’t it?” Book steeled himself for a confrontation. He contemplated the tray he held as a possible weapon now, depending on what she might be concealing beneath the sleeves of her gown. “As dear to me as my own children would be, if I’d ever had any.” “You would fight to keep them safe. Perhaps even kill.” She took a step forward and the light from the table revealed what was in her eyes. An underlying steel like his own. “Last time we met face to face, I was in fear of my life.” “That was another time. Another life. And you were very much younger, an innocent then, as I recall.” “Yet, I remember every detail. As though it were petrified in amber. The sights, the sounds – the screams and then the equally frightening silence.” It had been seared on her mind, suspended, scrutinized, a hard lump of cancer in her soul all these long years. She’d never understood why she had been left alive. Piera looked steadily into this man’s eyes; saw him as he was then. But he held her gaze, unflinching, and the remembered vision dissolved to reveal the present. “You weren’t a shepherd then.” “No.” She watched his eyes melt into sadness, resignation, acceptance. And made her judgment. “But you are now.” Book blinked, the startling change in her tone unforeseen. As he watched, the young woman before him seemed to slowly unfold. Like a flower after being pummeled by a heavy rain, unbending, she rose up tall and unafraid. Evergreen after a long dry season. “As far as I’m concerned,” she told him, “our ‘book’ is closed. The man you were no longer exists. That’s what my report will say. What the others will accept, I can’t guarantee. But after we reach port, you won’t be seeing me again.” She reached into her sleeve, pulled out a long needle-like stiletto encased in a clear sheath, and placed it on the tray he still held. He’d seen its like before, knew the case protected the weapon’s wielder from the fast-acting poison within. Her long gown whispered across the floor as she walked away from him. She paused in the door, not looking back. Book watched her as she continued across the threshold, until she moved out of sight. The tray shook in his hands as he took his first comfortable breath since he’d recognized her when she was berating the authorities back at Three Hills. A certain, random tilt of her head had suddenly opened the memory for him of her younger face. He’d not pondered directly on that first meeting for years. He’d been holding it below the surface of his thoughts -- not willing to dwell on it, not willing to let it go. It was perhaps the first step in his long journey to the abbey and beyond. Ages later it felt, he entered the crowded lounge again. Piera had evidently retired to the passenger dorm. A woman of discretion beyond her years. He felt removed, as if he were watching everyone from a great distance. He was startled for the second time that night as the tray was suddenly being lifted from his grip. He looked down into River’s face, aglow as it less often was now, with the wonder of a small child. “Shepherds watched their flocks,” she said in her pointed, enigmatic way. Then she moved off to serve the others.

Mal tramped heavily back into the ship, Jayne at his side grumbling -- whining really -- about how they’d found no work and just one less-than-certain rumor of a job on Whitefall. It was still, for a worry, under Patience’s jurisdiction and Mal sincerely hoped she’d taken to hear the talk they’d had last he time he was there. He didn’t fancy getting shot at again. Least ways, for a while Zoe was off to the side talking with Piera Melathene. When they were finished, the woman headed down the ramp and toward a mule loaded, he now saw, with her luggage. “Seems strange she’d pick this as the place to get off,” Zoe said coming over to stand by his side. “Not our business if the woman wants to get off on a planet even less interesting or populated than Three Hills.” It didn’t make any sense to Mal at all, unless…. “She pay her fare in full? What she agreed on? She didn’t ask for some back since we ended up not taking her to Persephone? “Paid in full. Some for her share of the extra vitals at the party, too.” “Huh. Well, who are we to stop her getting off wherever she wants then?” “Guess it’ll always remain a mystery -- your worry about her possibly cold and calculating nature.” Mal didn’t take the bait, so she added, “We about ready to leave? I can tell the mister.” “I’ll check to see everyone’s on board then give you the thumbs up.” As they headed past the controls, Mal hit the button to seal the doors and haul up the ramp. He didn’t aim to take on any more passengers for a while, in case they ran into trouble on Whitefall. “Almost forgot. Melathene woman told me Book wants to have a word with you in his cabin before we leave.” “Didn’t know they were so chummy, he’d be giving her messages to pass on.” “Anything to worry about?” Mal paused, shook his head. “No. Probably not.” As he hurried back through the cargo bay, Zoe called after him, “I’ll be on the bridge if you need me.” Mal slid to a stop in front of Book’s closed door, composed himself before he rapped his knuckles on the wall beside it. His hand went to rest on the handle of his gun when Book didn’t answer after the second knock and he quickly slid the door aside. The shepherd’s cabin was empty, the bed stripped, a folded note placed neatly in the middle of the mattress. Reading it didn’t take long. He folded it back up, then walked out and hit the com. “Tell Wash to take off, Zoe. House is as full as it’s going to get.”

When Serenity was well away from the planet and the captain still hadn’t come up to the bridge, Zoe went looking and found him in the lounge, staring at the Christmas tree. He handed over a slip of paper and gestured for her to read it. The sinking feeling in her belly didn’t go away as she recognized Book’s elegant script:

Shortly after I took passage on Serenity, I expressed the notion to one fellow traveler that this ship seemed like the wrong place for me to begin my journey back into the world. She, in her wisdom, told me that perhaps it was exactly the right place for me to be. Her words proved more true than I would ever have imagined. Strong monuments, sound minds, stout hearts – I’ve seen them all crumble. But I also stand as witness to the miracle of the human spirit. I have seen that again in all the crew of this ship and most of all in her captain. I’ve learned more than I’ve taught to any of you and I will forever count you among my closest friends. I know you won’t think ill of me for leaving without telling each of you in person, because this isn’t goodbye. I aim to always be of help to each one of you. To do that, I need now to walk a different path. I plan to make my home on Haven, which I know won’t come as a surprise to the captain. He and the rest of you will find welcome there. I hope you’ll visit often, even when you aren’t in need of a respite under the radar.

Peace to all of you, Derrial Book

The ship had been quiet after Book’s departure, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. At the moment, Zoe and Wash were in their room exchanging gifts. Down in the lounge, River was curled up asleep under the tree. Simon had opened a small package for him marked “from Shepherd Book” and was contemplating the sprig of mistletoe it held. He hid it quickly behind his back as Kaylee arrived with a blanket. She smiled fondly as he bent down to cover River and brush back a strand of his sister’s hair. River stirred, batted his hand away, then pulled the blanket tight around. She went peaceful again, but Kaylee shivered nonetheless and headed up to the dining room.

Alone on the bridge, Mal was contemplating the perpetual night as his ship rushed through the cold vacuum of space. It was nice to have a Christmas tree, lights, fancy baubles and the like once again. He remembered such times on his mother’s ranch long ago and could imagine how she’d scold if she knew he hadn’t yet done anything to thank his crew for their gifts and warm wishes. He’d find some little thing for each of them when next they landed or a bit later if he had to spend all his energy not getting shot on Whitefall. He needed to thank Kaylee especially, but all the rest, too – those who were still with him. Things were changing. Again. He didn’t take much comfort in the sky anymore. These days he found himself restless, always searching the vasty black for a certain pinpoint of light and trying not to think of why. This night he did let his thoughts drift to Inara. Hope your life’s more like you want it now. Tzoo-fo nee. “Capt’n?” “Kaylee. Shouldn’t you be….” He trailed off helplessly. He had no clue what she should be doing. Talking to yourself. Not a good sign. Might be time to retire. Before I become fully kwong-juh duh. “Just wanted to bring you some wine. Almost gone, but it sure was nice while it lasted.” “Thank you, mei mei.” “Merry Christmas, captain. It was a shiny one, wasn’t it?” “I believe it was.” He held up his glass to toast her. “Here’s to all good things and an even shinier New Year.” Book shook the hand offered by Piera Melathene before they went their separate ways. He hadn’t asked her where she’d be going, didn’t want to know. Hers was a path that he hoped would continue to be increasingly foreign to him. It wasn’t long before he found a man who knew of a transport planning to stop on Haven. For a wonder, it was another of the firefly class. He took that as a very good sign indeed.