“I know what you're thinking,” says a soft voice. “Argh!” Mal yelps, hand automatically straying to his gun in his shock, and jumps nearly a foot in the air. River simply stares at him, impassive. “You're thinking about opening them up to see what's inside. You musn't.” He puts a hand to his chest a little theatrically, waiting a moment for the adrenaline to drain away some before responding. “Wuo duh ma River. Don't sneak around like that!” “I wasn't sneaking,” she replies coolly. He looks back down at the boxes, almost ashamed at snapping at her. Truth be told, she might not have been sneaking around at all; his conundrum of a cargo had been holding his full and miserable attention. He glances back up to see River is watching the boxes too, and her expression is fearful. “Heard tell from the Preacher you're about as keen on these as I am,” he says softly and she nods carefully. “It's like Christmas,” she says, “Can't open the presents early.” Her eyes are locked on his now, wide with the urgency of her message. “Or bad things will happen.” “So I've heard,” he replies, “And not just from you.” He sighs, and decides there's no harm in trying. “Do you know what's in them?” She considers this for a moment. “They're screamers,” she says, “They'll call them, out of the black. Two-by-two.” She shivers. “They're already out there. Musn't invite them in.” “Fancy... maybe trying that again, in a language I can understand?” he says shortly. She smiles faintly, sadly. “I am what they made. Chaos.” He grunts. “Well, that makes a little more sense,” he concedes, and grudging concern wins over his annoyance at being startled into screaming. “You not sleepy?” She shakes her head slowly, eyes drifting back to the boxes. “Too much dreaming for sleep.” He wrinkles his brow as he tries to will sense out of her sentence, but gives up after a moment. “Well... I'm going to watch the 'scopes on the bridge after Wash goes to bed. Too close to Reaver territory to risk relyin' on sensors too much. I have an inkling you'll be the first to know if they're comin.' You can... come sit?” A genuine smile breaks over her features and he can tell she is touched by his awkward offer. He waves his hand, and she moves soundlessly up the stairs, barefoot again. He can't understand how she can stand walking on the grating with no shoes, but she appears not to care. With one last look at the crates, he follows her to the bridge.

* The dawn of their third day out of Beaumonde has passed when the asteroid field becomes visible. The rocks glitter, an horizon in space, like specks of grit at this distance. “Pretty, aren't they?” smiles Wash, as Zoe and the Captain crane their necks. “Don't fly too close,” Mal says, patting the back of his chair absently. “I won't,” Wash replies with a grin, “Stickin' to the flight plan, don't you worry.” “Good.” Zoe sits in the co-pilot's seat after he leaves, worried eyes on the approaching field. “What's wrong?” asks Wash, seeing her frown. “I just... don't like asteroids,” she explains. “I wasn't joking,” he reassures, “I'm not taking us close. That would be dangerous, and I like that so far this trip the most I had to worry about was what the Hell was in the stew Jayne cooked last night.” Zoe chuckles, “It was odd, wasn't it?” “Mmm.” He leans back a little. “Actually,” he says, more quietly, “I've been doing some thinking on that score.” “On Jayne's cooking?” It's his turn to laugh. “No. The not worrying. About... well, what we agreed after...” He clears his throat and tries again. “About waiting a while longer before.... you know...?” She stares at him in incomprehension for a moment and then realisation dawns. “You changin' your mind?” The look of surprise and mingled joy on her face tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Well, the way I see it...This job goes well we could be getting regular pay –and good pay at that– travelling a route that isn't too tricky to fly, and delivering cargo that doesn't involve you getting shot at. Plenty of time for ...kids, in all that.” She's out of her chair and her arms are around his neck in an instant. “You're serious?” she checks, but she can see the sincerity in his eyes before he even answers with the affirmative, and kisses him. He reaches out blindly and knocks the auto-pilot on, pulling her into his lap.

*

River is picking at her breakfast when Mal comes in, a curious prickly feeling creeping down the back of her neck. Perhaps it's another side effect of the latest round of drugs Simon is trialling; they give her some pale imitation of emotional control at the cost of feeling constantly nauseous. She tries to focus on the feeling, on what it means, what she's sensing... There's nothing in her head but hate. Even her own skin isn't safe from her hands, barely more than claws now. They rip, tear, rape and kill; it's all there is to live for. The only sensation knowable – the only feeling, the one that flows like fresh blood when life is ripped apart in front of you, under you- Her fork clatters onto her plate, splattering mushy protein. “Coming,” she says quietly, so soft no one hears. “They're coming.” Mal's head snaps up as her voice gets stronger, “They're coming close.” “River?” Kaylee says, face puzzled, “What-?” Mal stands up too quickly, knocking his chair backwards with a crash. “Reavers?” he says. She nods, panicky, “They're almost here.” “Everyone stay calm,” Mal says, before anyone else can react. “Kaylee, go to the engine room. Wash'll probably have a need for you. Everyone else... stay calm,” he repeats. The clomp of his boots alerts Zoe to his approaching presence and she slides out of her husband's lap seconds before he leaps up the stairs. “What's wrong?” she asks as he pushes roughly past her to check Wash's readouts. “Mal?” the pilot says, utterly confused. “River says there's Reavers coming. Close, was the word she used.” “The scopes are empty,” Wash says, a little stung that Mal assumes he wouldn't notice an approaching ship. “I can see that. I'm just wonderin'....” Wash flicks a few switches Mal hasn't, still rather nonplussed. “I know River has her moments but do you really think -” He stops abruptly. “Lao tyen yeh Do you see it?” “No, what am I looking at?” Mal replies. “On the very edge of long range sensors. Radiation reading is climbing. It could just be background, but-” “No,” Mal says, shaking his head, “It's them.” Wash runs a hand distractedly through his hair, looking panicky. “Can't out-run them,” he says quietly, “Not with them flying without containment.” “Well, you'll have to out-manoeuvre them,” Mal says shortly. Zoe's fingers are digging into the back of the pilot's chair as Wash flicks more switches. “Yeah,” he agrees, reaching unthinkingly over his shoulder for his wife's hand as the hum of the engines audibly increases. She lays it on his shoulder, as the Reaver ship gradually becomes clearly visible on their instruments. Mal clicks on the comm. “Everyone hold on tight,” he says, “Things could get a little bumpy.” “You got a plan?” Zoe asks quietly. The worry in her voice stabs at Wash's heart a little, when moments ago she was so pleased. In the blink of an eye, he thinks unhappily. The asteroids are coming up fast now, dead ahead. “I've got a plan,” he says, “It's risky, but... I think it's our only chance.” She closes her eyes briefly, realising what he's going to try. “You taking us into the asteroid field?” Mal asks. “Only way,” Wash replies. “Kao, you sure you can handle that?” There's something different about Wash's expression as he answers, a curious kind of calm has descended on him. “I can handle it,” he says. It's not bravado, just a statement of fact. Mal sits back in the co-pilot's chair, knuckles white as he grips the arms. No one says another word for a few minutes. Mal's eyes are on the dot on the scopes that steadily closes the distance between it and Serenity. Zoe's are on her husband, as the pilot watches the encroaching space debris intently. The asteroids are clearly visible now. Some of the larger ones are almost stationary or are spinning gently. Ship-sized rocks are gliding with the grace of swans, smaller pieces zipping through space at unavoidable speeds. The Reavers are almost upon them, almost close enough to deploy grapplers, if they have them. “Kaylee,” Wash says quietly into the comm, “You ready down there? I might have to pull all kinds of crazy stunts.” “We're ready,” comes the instant reply. “Alright,” Wash says, utterly focussed, “Zoe, dear? You might want to hold on to something.” She does as he instructs and he takes a deep breath, tightening his hands on the helm. He used to live for moments like this, admittedly normally in the simulator at flight school where an error in judgement was rather less fatal, but it won't be the first time he's strayed into a real asteroid field. Even now, with more at stake than his reputation, there's a perverse corner of his soul that longingly anticipates the moment Serenity wrenches his arms; when the forces of momentum fight him and his ship, and lose. When she soars like a leaf on the wind. They're close enough. He moves the stick smoothly and she turns like she's made to; he appreciates the fine-tuning done at the New Dunsmuir docks all the more at that moment, he's not felt Serenity respond to him like this in a long time. She banks left hard, turning upside down, and he hears Zoe gasp as an asteroid fills their screen. He's almost grinning, as Serenity falls away as if he's cut the engines, spinning one hundred and eighty degrees again to be right-side up, jinking left, right, up, down. He flies without thought, on instinct, they way he sometimes feels he was born to. He belongs in the air. The Reavers lack his finesse, losing ground again now, as they attempt to fly 'round asteroids he skims Serenity perilously close to. Their bulky ship moves like a bumblebee, buzzing from rock to rock and he is a swallow. Mal swears as he leaves it to the last possible moment to pull out of a kamikaze dive and- BOOM! The Reavers smash right into the rock and Wash lets out a whoop of pure joy, spinning Serenity on a dime. In a few moments they are in clear space again. He drops his right hand from the stick, and re-programmes in their course as Mal lets out a long sigh. The Captain looks decidedly pale but there's a look of grudging admiration in his eyes. He stands on shaky legs. “That was some flying.” “I'll say it was, at that,” says Zoe, and he can't remember the last time he heard such pride in her voice. Her hands are on his shoulders, already aching with the effort of frenzied flight, squeezing them gently as he hands control back over to the navigational computers. “Everyone okay?” Mal asks, over the comm. “Feelin' like a pea in a drum,” comes Jayne's snappy response. “We're all fine,” confirms the slightly amused voice of the Preacher a moment later. “River says we're safe,” he adds, a little more hesitantly, and Mal finally relaxes. “There's something not quite right about that girl,” he says quietly. “She knew they were coming,” Wash replies, “Before the sensors even picked it up.” “I'm thinkin' for all the trouble she causes, she could earn her passage on this ship with a few more warnings like that,” Mal confesses. “Wouldn't have made it to the asteroids in time if she hadn't told us so early,” Wash nods, “Can't believe I'm, well, believing she's some kind of psychic though.” “There's not many who'll believe you just flew us through an asteroid field unscathed,” Mal shoots back. “That's because there's not many pilots who could,” Zoe says, and Mal shrugs. “Can't argue with that,” he replies, actually smiling at Wash now, “Good job.” He sighs. “Suspect my breakfast is all over the kitchen now, though,” he adds. He pulls the door very firmly shut as he leaves, an oddity on Serenity where the bridge is normally something of an open house. Wash spins in the pilots chair so he is facing Zoe, her face still glowing with pride. “Where were we?” he says.