"My dear Mrs. Washburne," the man greeted from the doorway. "You surprise me. I would have thought your daughter meant more to you."

"Don't recall inviting you in my shop," Zoë responded, wiping down the counter one last time. "And I ain't your dear anything."

"All it takes is one little signature," he went on, ignoring Zoë's comments. "We could become partners. I treat my business partners quite well, Mrs. Washburne."

"Right up until you have them killed," Zoë pointed out. She put aside the cloth and faced the intruder. "Give me my daughter and leave us alone."

"I could burn down your vineyards," he went on. "I've already revoked your license for the inn, as well as your license to serve alcohol on these premises. Yet you prevail. All it would take is your name on the correct papers, naming me as your partner and it can all disappear. Yet you refuse. I have taken your daughter from you as you are, obviously, an unfit mother but you still--" His words were cut off when Zoë's fist made firm contact with his jaw.

"Get out of my shop," she ground out slowly. "Or magistrate or not, you will need to be carried out by medical experts. I will not sign anything over to you."

"You will regret this," he snarled, his calm finally broken. "You still don't know who you're messing with, do you? I own this sector! No one makes a move without my say-so! You should be grateful I have taken an interest in this worthless plot of yours, you miserable, washed-up old crone!"

Zoë watched him storm off to his private transport as she flexed her fingers, ignoring the sting along her knuckles. She would have to work harder at finding where Kya was placed now - he wouldn't just let that go. She allowed herself a quick glance at the sky, hoping for a miracle...

***

"If Zoë were here, she'd tell you it would never work," Kaylee said, once the plan had been explained.

"If Zoë were here," Mal responded. "We wouldn't need to break Jayne out of a high-security prison to help fetch Zoë's daughter."

"How much preparation has gone into this?" Simon asked, peering at the reports in front of him. Mal shrugged and returned to the stove, checking on the stew he'd set to simmer.

"River's done most of it," he admitted. "Minute we heard about Kya's disappearance, she started planning."

"How exactly did you hear?" Simon asked. "You mentioned Sheydra, but..."

"But what?" Mal asked.

"But you stopped talkin' to the Houses when Nara died," Kaylee reminded him.

"Had nothing to say to them," Mal answered. "This was worth a talk. I told you some of Pedaline's girls went with Zoë and another went off with Sheydra. Well, the girls are all good friends and none of them keep secrets from anyone of the others. Zo's girls talked to Merri - who teaches massage techniques with Sheydra. Seems some magistrate - Hammin - is intent on putting his fingers in every pie available. Someone don't wanna give him a share, he takes it anyway. Through his own version of legal means, usually."

"Twists the law to suit his needs," River said as she entered the room. Kaylee quirked an eyebrow at her sister-in-law. River's hair was dripping with soapy water, as was a good portion of her deep blue shirt. Simon turned to see his sister more clearly as Mal shook his head slowly.

"I wanted to join in the game," the object of the room's attention said plainly. She went on with the original topic, saying, "He just wants Zoë's pie."

"Her business," Mal clarified. River shrugged - specific wording was inconsequential - and meandered to the simmering stew for her own inspection as Mal continued.

"Seems he started harassing Zo recently, since she'd been doin' so well for herself, but she was able to put him off," he explained as he continued to move herbs and spices away from River's questing hands. "Started simple enough - sent inspectors in to her place and the vineyard she built up. Tried claiming she didn't have all the right documentation. She was able to deal with the feng le hun dan well enough. Wasn't till he deemed her an unfit mother and took Kya that word was sent through channels." "How long ago was that?" Kaylee asked, fascinated by the routine in the kitchen. River had managed to acquire some salt and was now attempting to add it to the stew while Mal blocked her access.

"Two days," River answered. "Sheydra had to make contact, so as not to attract attention to Zoë's friends and cohorts." Only half of the salt went into the stew - Mal had knocked her hand away at the last. "Some of whom can't cook."

"Talkin' about your own cooking like that is shameful," Mal retorted wryly. "Course I'd be lying if I said I didn't agree."

"Flavor may not be necessary by those unused to the concept, but often well appreciated by regular consumers of food," River argued.

"Burning out tastebuds never makes friends," Mal said, pushing River from the stove as a father would to a meddlesome teenager.

"They are family," River's hand waved vaguely in the direction of Simon and Kaylee.

"Why couldn't Zoë contact us directly?" Simon asked, trying to return to the point and ignore his sudden fears that leaving River with Mal had been a bad idea.

"Didn't think you alone could help her," River replied. "Also, you're related to me." At Simon's incomprehension, she continued. "I have been engaging in actions that are not deemed lawful by those who would determine the mothering capabilities of former Browncoated smugglers and thieves."

"Part of her 'unfit' mothering is her history with us," Mal explained. "Somehow, Hammin got a hold of Zoë's history and decided her criminal – or near enough criminal – record made her a danger to her own child."

"But that's crazy," Kaylee insisted hotly. "They can't hold her past against her – she's got herself a vineyard and winery now. People make reservations to stay at her inn!"

All eyes turned to Mrs. Tam. She rolled her eyes as she expanded upon her outburst.

"We do get Christmas cards from her."

"River, did you-–?" Mal started, turning to his pilot. She looked at him innocently.

"I have been responding to inquiries," she answered. "Cards celebrating the anniversary of the birth of a Divine Saviour do not require responses. No questions were asked, no response required."

"We get Christmas cards?" Mal blinked.

"Simon and Kaylee said Merry Christmas from the family, hope all is well six times," River replied. "Zoë and Kya said Happy Holidays twice, Merry Christmas three times and May this Holiday Season bring you joy once. I didn't handle the mail before then."

"River…"

"Did you want me to send replies?"

"Momma, can we stop playing the game now?" Four heads turned to the welcome interruption.

"What have you been doing?" Kaylee asked, hurrying to her sons as they dripped puddles where they stood. Both boys looked as though they had spent the past hour playing in a lake - not cleaning the infirmary as their father had instructed them.

"Playin' game," the younger boy replied, brushing his sodden hair away from his face.

"Da's version wasn't as fun as Aunt River's," Hoban admitted, hugging his arms to his chest. "But we're starting to get cold."

"Momma, I'm hungry," Briel added.

"What were you talking about?" Hoban asked.

"Christmas cards," Kaylee answered, herding the boys back into the hallway. "And you can eat once you're in dry clothes, dong ma? Don't make faces at me, you'll catch your death of cold out here. This ain't a planet, there are drafts around each and every corner. Let's get you dried off, 'fore your Daddy has to treat pneumonia." Her litany of the damage an immune system could sustain in the black trailed off as she led her sons away. River began setting places at the table while Simon began the task of moving all the evidence of the upcoming jailbreak to a less child-accessible location.

"Captain," Simon began, looking once more at the forms in his hands. "Do you really think this could work?"

"What, don't you?" Mal asked, handing cups to River.

"But, wouldn't they already have information that contradicts this?"

"There's nothin' in there contradicting information," came the reply. Simon looked up with a question forming on his lips. Mal waved him off with a smile.

"Jayne's allergies may not be well known," he admitted. "But they're true enough." "Now they are," River shrugged. Both men looked to her - one in exasperation, the other in confusion. "Medical files shouldn't be held where anyone can access them." "They aren't," Simon insisted. "It depends on who you list as 'anyone'," River replied. "All it takes is the correct algorithm and an applied sense of intent." They continued to stare at her.