Yevgeny Rostov looked out of the window on the topmost floor of the Parliament building, and smiled. As far as the eye could see, and further, there was peace. And as far as the mind could see, there was ... if not peace, then at least not war. There would always be petty fights, planet against planet, colony against oppression, but at least now the Alliance was what it had always truly intended to be – a benevolent entity helping but not hindering mankind in all its terrible, wonderful incarnations.

The door opened behind him and his sister Lula swept in. “You’re a romantic, Yves,” she accused, using the pet name he had never managed to disaquire.

He smiled. “Always have been, Lu. Can’t see it changing now.” She tutted as she came to stand next to him, and the empath in his mind sniggered slightly. She was emanating concern, the emotion spilling across her barriers like water overflowing a dam. “She’ll be fine,” he said gently.

“I know. But this is her first, and she’s being pig-headed, and if she thinks I'm not going to be there she can gorram well think again, and –”

Despite all her airs, his sister was just as human as the rest, and Yves took her hand, gripping it tightly. “Cora is one of the strongest women I know, and you know she’s going to change her mind as soon as it starts.”

Lula managed a weak smile. “I hope so.” Taking a deep cleansing breath, she managed to get herself under better control. “You know, I had hoped she might be able to hold on until today. It would be appropriate if she could give birth on Unification Day.”

“U-Day.” Yves couldn’t help chuckling. “I hate to think what Malcolm Reynolds would have said about that.”

“Well, it was his fault,” Lula said, bridling somewhat. “He’s the one started all this.”

“What, freedom?” The chuckle turned to a laugh, even more so when his sister pulled her hand away in disgust. “Lu, darling, I think it’s been around a bit longer than that.”

“You know what I mean.”

He did, of course. No-one in his family could possibly not know the history of the man who had started the revolution, gaining momentum until it smashed the Blue Sun Corporation into oblivion, tearing open their worst secrets and baring them to the light of day. Nobody could ever go back to that again, and the Rostovs had made sure of that. “I’d have thought you’d prefer it if she had your daughters on election day. Give you that last, final push.”

“I don't care if I win or not.” Lula patted her hair, piled high up on the crown of her head and giving her a good six inches in height over him.

“Liar.”

“Boob.”

“Oh, I can't disagree with you there.” He grinned, the expression taking ten years off him. “And Fiz delights in telling me that every day.” His darling wife, who even now was sitting with Cora, attempting to talk some sense into her as her doctor and lifelong friend.

“She wants to have them off-planet,” Lula said, going back to the only thing currently occupying her magnificent mind. “She’s trying to persuade the curators to let her take Serenity up.”

This was news to Yves. “You’re joking.”

“No. She thinks it would be fun.”

“Fun.” Yves shook his head. “The last time that Firefly took off, it nearly destroyed half the docks!”

“Ah, but that’s because she wasn’t being flown by someone who loved her.”

It clicked. “You mean he’s agreed?”

Lula shrugged, her red and gold dress glittering in the sunlight. “Apparently.”

“Well, I suppose if he’s going to fly –”

“I won’t have her going up in that death trap!”

“Don’t let Hoban hear you say that.”

“I don’t care. It isn’t going to happen, not if I have to use all my influence.”

Yves didn’t tell her she was being ridiculous, that she was wavering between moods and viewpoints every few seconds. She knew, at least he thought so from the blush colouring her cheeks. “Lu, Cora’s going to do what she likes, you know that. That’s why you’re together.”

His sister glared at him, and he felt a thousand pinpricks across his mind, then it stopped. “Sorry.”

“Ouch.”

“I said I'm sorry.”

“It doesn’t stop you doing it, though, does it?”

She seemed to deflate, turning her back on him and slouching for one of the armchairs. She dropped unceremoniously into it. “I hate this, Yoyo.”

An even older soubriquet, one which he hoped nobody else would ever call him. “I know.”

“If I’d known I was going to feel like this, I’d never have asked Gabriel.”

Gabriel Tam, titular father to her daughters, a man who had not only become a great doctor like his ancestor, but who would do anything for Lula, including donating his sperm.

“You wanted kids.”

“I kept seeing you and Fiz, and how happy you were with your family ...” Her voice died away.

“Aren't you and Cora happy?” He’d wanted to ask before now, but hadn’t managed to get up the courage.

The glow in her mind assured him, even as she said, “Of course we are! But I thought it might make it even better, and then when Fiz said she could use one of my eggs and one of Cora’s ...” Her face softened. “My babies, Yoyo. My baby girls.”

“Who you will be seeing in a few hours.”

Lula’s complexion paled. “God, yes. I’ll be a mother.”

“And you’ve been speaking to them for months,” he pointed out.

She nodded, and sighed, this time happily. “They’re powerful. But then with Tam genes and Rostov’s, I suppose they couldn’t be anything less.”

“A lovely inbred family,” he joked, then grunted as she hit him.

“We are not inbred. We’ve done our very best not to be.” Her eyes narrowed. “As you well know.”

He smiled again. “Oh, I know.” Something Freya Reynolds had been very clear on, as soon as Bethie and Ethan had got married and had their first. He could still see the capture, held in the family archives, in his mind’s eye.

“I know me and your father are going to be around for a long time, and I’ll remind you occasionally, but this is just an aide memoire.” Freya’s hazel eyes were bright, and he just knew she was trying not to laugh. “There’s a whole ‘verse of people out there, and there’s no reason not to share our bounty with them.” Her lips twitched. “It might seem easier to keep it to ourselves, and there was a time I might have agreed, but there are a lot of problems engendered by inbreeding. Not least of which is boredom. I mean, how would I have fared if I’d not married outside my station?”

“Okay, that’s enough.” The capture tilted, then steadied as the man recording it put it down. “This is supposed to be serious.” A blur indicated he had come around the front, and resolved as he sat down next to his wife. “And it was your idea.”

“I know.” Freya smiled at her husband, the great Mal Reynolds. “I just ... somehow it seems crazy.”

He looked into her face, his blue eyes full of love, even through the medium of the capture. “Frey, ai ren, I conjure maybehaps it’s a good thing, just to let ‘em know. I mean, with your bro’s girls each being the way they are, it ain't likely this psychic thing is gonna die out. And now little Alice ...” He stroked her cheek. “Still can't believe they wanted their first called that.”

“Ethan may never have known his sister, but he loves her.” Freya swallowed visibly.

“Hey, now,” Mal said, cupping her face and kissing her delicately. “She’s a little wonder.”

“Reynolds and Tam, together in one package.” Freya was beginning to smile. “Simon was having kittens.”

“Still is. We’re gonna be knee deep in cats ‘fore he’s done.”

She laughed and put her arms around his neck. “I love you, Mal Reynolds.”

“That’s good. ‘Cause I kinda love you back.”

“Only kinda?”

He grinned. “Turn that damn thing off and I’ll show you.”

And now Yves couldn’t help but laugh, even as he saw Lula’s lips lift, and knew she’d picked up on his memories.

“I wish we’d met them,” she whispered.

“I feel like we have,” he admitted. “Have you watched all those captures?”

She nodded, a wisp of hair coming loose to lay on her shoulder. “They were wonderful.”

“That they were.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll see you out.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No. But I think you need to be close by when it starts.”

She shot to her feet. “You can feel it?”

“Soon.”

Lula patted her hair again, and automatically lifted the stray lock back into place, doing something complicated with the pins until it was all neat again. “Then I’d better get going.”

They walked out to the elevator, and in a few moments they were in the main concourse of the Parliament building.

“Give my love to Cora,” Yves said.

“I will.” Lula looked around. “You know, I think I’ll have that corner office next to yours.”

“If you’re elected.”

She ignored him. “But I think I’ll redecorate. Chintz, perhaps, with flowers and vines painted all along the walls.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That could be arranged.” She arched an eyebrow at him then stopped, not a movement showing on her face except for the blood draining from it.

“Lu?”

Lula swallowed convulsively. “I ... it’s started. I have ... I have to go.” She turned and ran out of the building, barely letting the doors open for her before she was through, her driver ready with the groundcar door open. In less than ten seconds they were gone in a swirl of dust.

Yves?

She’s on her way.

Fiz Rostov, nee Felicity Cobb, laughed in his mind. I thought she might be.

How’s Cora?

She’s been swearing solidly for the last minute, and some of them I didn’t even know.

Really?

I know. Shocking, isn’t it?

How long? Do I have to rush?

He could almost see her shake her head, her dark hair swinging around her face. No. Babies take their own sweet time.

Oh, he knew all right. He could remember his own children being born, feeling Fiz talking to them, particularly when his little girl was being a fussbucket and not wanting to come out. His sons couldn’t wait to see the ‘verse, but little Frey was one in a million. Can we have another? he asked before he could stop himself.

Fiz laughed again. Can I get your nieces born first, before we discuss it?

If you must. As long as we can practice later.

I might be too tired.

I’ll wake you up. He let a series of images play across his mind.

And that’s not fair.

My name might be Rostov, but I'm a Reynolds underneath. We don't play fair.

That you don’t. There was a pause, then Fiz said, her mental voice much more businesslike, Have to go. Maybe it won’t take as long as I thought.

I’ll be with you shortly.

Shiny.

And he was alone again in his head.

He chuckled, turning enough to look at the statue behind him, twice as large as life and much more imposing. “Hear that, Captain?” he whispered. “Your great-great-great-grand daughters are getting ready to enter the world. Who’d have thought it, eh?”

Not me, he seemed to hear. Least, not in this place. And as for U-Day ...

Hush, Mal, another voice almost said. You’re not going out to find a bar to fight in.

Aw, hell, Frey, why not?

It’s undignified.

I ain't never been accused of being dignified before. Not sure I like it.

Don't worry. I don’t think anyone ever will.

You insulting me behind my back?

Now you know I don't do that. I always do it to your face.

I’ve a notion to put you over my knee ...

Promises, promises.

Yves grinned, turning on his heel from the statue Mal Reynolds would have spit nails over, the gentle bickering following him out into the Shadow sunshine as he waited for a cab.

Looks like maybe we have a dynasty after all.

Well, you tried your hardest.

I did, didn't I? Want to see if we’ve still got the same old magic?

Less of the old. I intend to be young forever.

Oh, you are, xin gan. You are.

Good answer. Now, come here and kiss me.

Hey, who’s captain?

Consider this mutiny.

Just so long as I know.

Yves, knowing this was more than just wishful thinking, closed his mental walls and left his great-great-grandparents to it, and went to see his nieces greet the ‘verse.