Author note: All characters in the fic so far belong to Joss Whedon and all the other proper owners of the show "Firefly." I also realize that it would not be permissible to say "shit" on television. That's the beauty of fanfics.

This is written in script form. Mainly because that's how I see it and I've gotten lazy with doing descriptions in straight prose. Also because I like to play make-believe when no one's around, and what is make-believe besides an improv play? The idea spawned from just such a special alone time, and you better believe I played all the characters.

Enjoy.

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Scene: Mal and Jayne are walking through knee-deep snow and navigating around giant snow-covered boulders. It is Earth that Was, somewhere in Siberia, and they are looking for a certain piece of cargo. Mal is carrying a shovel and a pretty cheap tracker that has no screen but rather beeps when they're getting closer to the coveted object. He's dressed in a long trench coat and gloves, and actually has a scarf on, but no hat. Jayne is wearing the hat his mother made for him, a scarf, ski gloves, a parka which goes down almost to his knees, and is walking like he's wearing about four pairs of pants. He's carrying a shovel as well, and begins complaining for the 14th time since they got off ship.

Jayne: Gorramn freezing on this rock. (Tightens the string of his hat under his chin and sticks his free hand in his other armpit.) Mal, was the money so good we gotta be traipsin' around this god-forsaken planet like a bunch of --

Mal (interrupting) Would you quit your belly-achin' already? I'm trying to find somethin' and I can't hear the tracker with you yammerin' on like that.

Jayne: (quieter) Place gives me the creeps is all...

Mal: I hear what you're sayin', Jayne. I'm just wondering when I made any inclination that I gave a shit. Now pipe down. We got a job to do.

They take a few more steps before the tracker starts beeping like mad.

Mal: There. (Puts tracking device in his coat pocket and starts digging. )

By the time the box is uncovered it's about 8 feet long and three feet deep, way too big for the two men to get out of the 4-foot hole it was in and back to the ship

Mal: That son of a bitch.

Jayne: (still digging, notices something.) Um, Mal? (Kicks snow away from a rope at the head of the box.) Is that a sled? We gotta take a box bigger than me and a flippin' sled all the way back to Serenity?

Mal: (relieved, smiles) Get ready to mush.

----------------------------- Back on serenity. River is wandering around the kitchen while everyone (sans Wash) lounges in their chairs having idle conversation. She's talking to herself, but so that everyone hears.

River: The girl likes to fight and the boy likes to sing. Dark cold. She dances with dogs that laugh and cheer, no one else. Shh, shhh, too cold to sing. (suddenly frightened) Not safe not safe. Leave! Run away! (She picks up a can from the counter and throws it to the ground like she's trying to take out someone's ankles.)

Simon: (going to her) River?

River: (matter-of-fact) They're after her mother's money. Secrets in her mind.

About that time, Wash comes down from the bridge and crosses through the kitchen.

Wash: They're back.

The rest of the crew follows him into the cargo bay. Mal and Jayne enter the ship dragging the sled behind them.

Jayne: Ho ho ho!

Kaylee: Well, it certainly looks promising. (Catches glance from Inara, continues a little less confident) ...It's pretty big...

Wash: (aside to Kaylee) All I'm sayin' is there had better be fuel reserves in there like he promised.

Zoe: (overhearing) You ain't kiddin baby.

River: One? This is not going to be a very good Christmas. (looks at Shepherd Book as though in confidence.) Simon doesn't like to share.