A.N. Make sure to start at the Prologue ----------------------

CHAPTER 1

Mal could smell the fresh steaks on the grill as he walked up the path to Zoë’s home, holding Emma’s hand as she yammered excitedly about the bubblegum-flavored tooth-paste she’d bought when she went to town with her mother that afternoon. Ever the ambassador, Inara carried a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine for their hostess. Cappy followed close behind, River hanging on one arm, Kaylee on the other. Kaylee, he knew, was simply on the rebound from Simon leaving and was in desperate want of attention. While Mal was accustomed to seeing Kaylee fawn over men, for River the behavior was new. Though she was twenty-five now, this was the first time he’d ever seen River behaving as a normal woman and not Simon’s brainiac little sister. For his part, Cappy hardly noticed the estrogen war, though Mal knew for a fact the man weren’t sly. To Mal’s surprise, the doorbell played an extended tune to the house inside and a few moments later, Jackson opened the door. Mal recognized the boy immediately, not only from Zoë’s pictures, but because he was a spitting image of her. “Hi Uncle Mal!” the boy exclaimed, jumping into his arms “Hey boy, you’ve put some weight on your bones,” Mal laughed, taking him up in a bear hug. “So have you!” Jackson blurted out, and Inara suppressed a laugh. “Did you get the snake?” “I love the snake! But everyone knows it’s fake because there ain’t no rattlers on Three Hills.” “Oh, my apologies. Maybe it’ll be good for pranks when you go off world.” Jackson led them excitedly through the house into the backyard where Zoë was busy cooking up a storm. Emma seemed to have taken a vow of silence and leaned her head timidly against his forearm. Once out the back door, Kaylee dropped Cappy’s arm like a hot potato and ran to hug Zoë, who managed only a slight lean in return as she tended the grill. Smartly, Mal waited for her to pull the slightly off-colored steaks off, then greeted her with the longest hug she would allow. “Zo, these don’t look like beef-steaks.” “Course not, sir. Ain’t no cattle on Three Hills. Too many damn vegetarians.” “Is this soy meat?!” “Wild game, Captain. Damn gazelle has been eatin’ at my vegetable garden… so no fresh-snapped green beans either.” Mal laughed appreciatively. “Zoë, I’d like you to meet my daughter Emma.” “Hello, Emma,” Zoë smiled, holding out her hand in greeting. Emma gripped her daddy’s hand and hid behind him shyly. Mal had never known her to be without words, even among the various passengers he’d taken up over the years. But for some reason, when faced with Zoë, her dark brown curls fell messily across her face and she buried her little nose in Mal’s leg. The meal was more than Mal could possibly have asked for, the jubilant tastes exploding in his mouth like fireworks on U-day. Even Emma, normally picky about food, cleaned her plate. Kaylee, Inara, River, and Zoë had not stopped talking, their conversation ranging over anything and everything. Mal smiled at the happy reunion, wondering how he might join it, but waiting for the conversation to wane so he could talk to Zoë about this prospective job. While the ladies yapped, Cappy and Jackson tossed a Frisbee and Emma curled up on his lap, ready to sleep. He reclined a little, eavesdropping on the ladies’ conversations, when Emma scooted up to his ear and whispered. “Daddy, why is her house like that?” “Like wait, darlin’?” “It’s empty. Like no one lives there.”

*~*

The evening wore on and Zoë lit a fire, breaking out the skewers, marshmallows, and the hard liquor. Zoë expected Mal to corner her at some point, she’d just hoped for a little more small talk first. He’d been quiet and observant all evening, and she wondered if he was sizing her up for the job. Did he doubt her ability to second him? She doubted herself, but wouldn’t admit that to anyone. The firelight danced on Mal’s face and Inara leaned on his shoulder contently, stroking little Emma’s hair as the girl slept soundly in her father’s arms. Zoë couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy and longing. She saw in them that comfortable love. The image of a perfect family. What she and Wash could have had. Should have had. Involuntarily, she stopped pouring the drinks, distracted by a shooting star in the clear evening sky. Did she dare take her child off world and out into the perilous black? Back to the sky that claimed his father? “You gonna pour or stare at the sky all night?” Mal quipped, shaking her back to reality. Quickly, she finished measuring the round of shots and handed them around. Inara declined on account of her condition, but Cappy volunteered to take her share. “Shall we talk business?” Inara asked, commanding the attention of the circle. Zoë wasn’t accustomed to her being involved with Mal’s business. “Does seem about time,” Mal agreed, sitting straighter. How could he do that? How could he talk crime with his child resting on his shoulder? If Wash had lived, and they were still on Serenity, Zoë wondered if she would have done the same. What unexpected turns her life had taken! “They all know this,” Mal began, motioning to the others, “but here’s the tale. We picked up the job on Persephone – break into a rum storehouse on Whitefall, make the drop at Santo, head back to Persephone to divide the take.” “Whitefall ain’t gonna be easy,” Zoë said. Since the Alliance had taken a beating at Miranda, Whitefall had fallen to local powers and rumor had it that Patience had taken the entire moon. Mal and Patience had a notoriously unpleasant history. “Not concerned with Whitefall,” Mal informed. “We’ve already been there and our hold is full. I hoped you would come to Santo with us to make the drop.” “You expect trouble with the buyer?” “I expect trouble every damn place.” Zoë furrowed her brow, unable to conjure what Mal was getting at, but figuring she’d search the cortex later and find out why Santo had Mal so fidgety. “This job for Badger?” she asked. Mal laughed. “Oh, no. Badger’s dead. Three years now. Man named French is running most of the smuggling through Persephone these days.” Zoë nodded, making a note to look up that name as well. It had been awhile since she’d been on the job. Any job. How much else had changed? “So are you in?” Kaylee asked hopefully, melted marshmallow sticking to the corners of her mouth. Did she dare? She looked into the window of her little home where her boy slept soundly in his bed. From the moment she’d taught him to use a gun, he took to it like a duck to water, shooting field rats and feeding the snakes. He had come alive at the prospect of taking a trip with his Uncle Mal, and she couldn’t help but admit that she had too. Who was she fooling? The house was packed and sold. She had every intention of leaving and no intention of coming back. She met Kaylee’s eyes, then River’s, Inara’s, and Mal’s. “I’m in.”

*~*

Chapter 2