Zerri had locked her crew on the bridge and had gone to wait by the airlock. It was a hopeless case, she knew, but she had an odd feeling….One that tugged on her heart and soul. The clattering and howling of the Reavers struggling to get in interrupted her reverie, and in a great act of stupidity, she hit the button to let them in. As the door opened, the Reavers paused for a moment- surprised that it was this easy to get into a ship. They leapt towards her, but she pulled out her pistol and shot one in the chest; at the same time grabbing a wrist with an axe held in its hand and plunging the axe into another’s chest. A swift kick to one’s head snapped its neck, and she kneed one carefully in the stomach. It went down, and she twisted her feet to hear the satisfying crunch of the neck breaking. She punched one in the face, and duck and spun so that another caught the sword swing meant for her. She fired her pistol carefully, each shot straight through the heart. She snatched an axe from one of the bodies, and she was alternately shooting them and slicing their heads off. One gave a flying leap towards her, and she shot him down out of the air. But he rose angrily, and she saw with frustration the body armor. “You want some? Come and get it!” she snarled angrily, and it came bounding towards her, but a quick flip of her wrist had her axe bloodier and its head on the floor. There were three left now, and she quickly surveyed her possibilities. These ones had guns- not cool. “You picked the wrong girl to have a shooting match with,” she told them before blowing one’s head of with her pistol. The other two began firing, but she spun and twirled, moving away from the flying bullets. The rain of bullets stopped for a moment, and Zerri would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so grave- they had to reload. Two quick shots and they were down, leaving her cargo bay bloody and full of bodies. “Ugh. This is gonna take forever to clean up,” she muttered to herself, stepping carefully over bodies to get to the com. “Um, could you guys help me out down here?” With a whole lot of clattering and banging, her crew came trudging into view, shocked speechless. “Y’all gonna help me clean up or not?” she drawled. **

“Alive,” muttered River, and Jayne rolled over to look at her through one partially open eye. “Can we sleep before we gotta go tend to the mutilated body of Mal and Zoe’s friend?” he asked blearily. “They’re alive. She fought them. Like me, remember?” River reminded him. “Shouldn’t you be tellin’ this to Mal?” groaned Jayne. “It’s a surprise,” she informed him. “Ain’t it lucky Mal’s so concerned about his friend that he didn’t notice us sneak off?” Jayne said, changing the subject. “He doesn’t want to see. It would be less conspicuous if I didn’t stay afterwards,” River told him. “I thought ya wanted to-,” began Jayne, a note of worry in his voice. Like he was worried she might not care for him the way he hoped she did. The way he cared for her. “Jus’ facts. Don’t mean nothing,” she mumbled, giving a perfect impression of Kaylee. “Wei, now, girl, don’t be imitating nobody. I want you…..as you,” Jayne murmured, draping one large arm over her slender hips. “Want me as in just sex?” she provoked him. She did this sometimes, just to make him say how he felt. “Nah….Girl, ya know I love ya,” he mumbled into his pillow, the words barely intelligible, because the words were meant for her and her alone. “Well, ain’t that all manner of interesting,” proclaimed Mal from above, having opened the door silently. “I think we need an explanation on why my mercenary is sleeping with my reader.” “Because we are in love with each other,” River notified him, her head still burrowed somewhere between a feather pillow and Jayne’s chest. “Huh. Jayne, do I gotta throw you out the airlock?” “Aw, Mal….I…I….I love the gorramn crazy, so you just shut your mouth, dong ma?” Jayne snarled, sitting up to chuck a pillow at Mal. “Please leave, Captain. Jayne and I are very sleepy, and we need to rest before we reach Kleodora. By the way, try sending them a wave again,” River commanded him, her voice still somewhat muffled against Jayne’s chest, her lips moving against soft cotton fabric, tickling Jayne. “They’re most likely already….I’m leaving,” Mal decided, climbing out of Jayne’s bunk. **

“Hey, Cap’n, we’re gettin’ a wave!” called Peach from one of the platforms. “Comin’!” came the reply, and the entire was crowding the bridge again, and Zerri hit a button. “Good to see you’re still alive,” Zoe smiled at Zerri from the screen. “I guess you fought them off single handedly?” “How’d you know?” Zerri asked, weary and bewildered. “Sweetie, you’re the only one coated in blood…..You really are like River?” Zoe murmured, gazing at the tired girl. There was a worn out look in her eyes, and Zoe felt for the girl. “You are…….We’re comin’ to see you anyways, just cuz I wanna see you in person.” “Alright, Zoe, I’ll see you then. And, Zoe? I love you, jie jie,” Zerri said, once more the terrified teenage girl from the war, dirty and fatigued, but most of all lost and broken. The Cortex shut off, and as Zoe’s image faded, she looked at her crew and realized they were all broken. But maybe if they found Serenity they could start to heal. ** “Partners,” River sang out, and Jayne glared at her. They had been arguing about whether or not Mal would tell Simon, and would it be better to tell Simon before Mal went off on him. “Girl, what are you talkin’ ‘bout?” Jayne growled, pulling her gently into his lap. “We’re to become partners with the water nymph and her crew,” she informed him, snuggling against him. “I’m hungry.” “Ain’t no one but you can remedy that, little Albatross,” Mal said, stumbling into the kitchen and taking in the sight of River perched in Jayne’s lap. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. “You can’t depend on a mercenary for everything.” River eyed him, and decided to take the challenge. She twisted in Jayne’s lap to be face to face with him, and she widened her big brown eyes appealingly. “Jayne, will you fix me some noodles?” she asked him, doing her best to look pitiful. Jayne sighed, picked her up, stood up and placed her back in the chair. He walked over to the counter and began grabbing ingredients. Behind his back, Mal shot River an appreciative glance and River smiled confidently. “Are we havin’ a party? Why wasn’t I invited?” complained Wash as he and Zoe entered the scene. “It’s midnight, guys- why are you up?” “Why are you?” replied River. “I think we all might have shared a mental wave length and the decision about our impending future begs to be discussed.” “Here’s your damn noodles, girl, now shut the rutting hell up while you eat,” Jayne said, dropping the bowl on the table with a clatter. River grinned amiably up at him, and moved so that she was once more sitting on his lap. “What is going on here?!” yelled Simon, storming into the kitchen. Book and Kaylee came sprinting after him, most likely to keep him from killing himself by starting a fight with Jayne. Inara came ambling in with an amused smile on her face, and she held a hand out. “Stop- all of you. There’s a distress beacon again- Kleodora again….That poor crew has terrible luck. We’re five minutes from them, and they aren’t answering any of the waves. See, this is what I was doing while the rest of you bickered,” Inara smiled sweetly. The crew stared at her a moment, and then Simon stormed out, Kaylee on his heels. Mal gave Inara a significant glance and even though they went through separate doors they would be meeting in the cargo bay. Book shook his head wearily and went back to his bunk, and Wash and Zoe slipped away to the bridge, leaving only River and Jayne. “Girl, this place is getting’ weird,” Jayne mumbled into her hair. “Isn’t it?” **

They saw it from it the bridge, all standing around for the thousandth time that night. The ship was blown apart, and badly. It could probably be repaired, but there was a good chance the crew was dead. The hull had been breached, it was easy to see, and that meant no air. Mal blanched at the thought, and squinted at sudden movement. “That girl is psychotic…,” he mumbled as he stared at the group of people sitting as lazily as one can in a space suit on top of the ship. “Wash, let ‘em in!” “Psychotic. Absolutely gorramn psychotic,” Mal was still mumbling as the airlock opened for the ragtag group of people. “Gorramn psychotic.”