EXT. HAVEN – MAIN STREET – NIGHT

A LARGE TENT, expansive enough to seat nearly 50 comfortably, sits at the north end of Main Street, a blazing BONFIRE, at the south.

As Bernabe, Simon and Jayne walk away from the tent, folks behind them clean up after dinner.

SIMON: I must say, Bernabe, that’s one of the finest meals I’ve had in a long time.

BERNABE: Got a garden up in the hills. Sissy Temkin stays out there most days, claims she can grow anything.

SIMON: I’m inclined to agree.

As the trio continues toward the bonfire, folks meander past, often offering some greeting to Bernabe, who nods or waves in response.

BERNABE: I’m just sorry we didn’t have any meat for our fine visitors.

Jayne looks suspicious.

JAYNE: No meat? What the gorram hell was in the stew?

BERNABE: Mushrooms.

River rushes up to them, smiling and laughing. She’s holding an APPLE, which she presents to Jayne by practically shoving it in his face.

RIVER: You’ve been good. You can have this. Here.

Jayne takes the apple, glares at it with distrust.

Simon glances at his sister, but does his best to ignore the interchange.

SIMON: Mushrooms?

BERNABE: You’d be amazed what we can grow in spent mineshafts.

Jayne sniffs the apple suspiciously, polishes it with his sleeve, all the time keeping a wary eye on River. He unsheathes his KNIFE and pierces the apple, apparently testing for a grenade, but does not eat it.

By now, the group is at the edge of the BONFIRE, where nearly two dozen folks are lounging, relaxing, and laughing. They shout greetings to Bernabe, and more than a few address the newcomers from Serenity by name.

BERNABE (cont’d): And now that supper’s over, it’s time for the three Ds.

SIMON: Three Ds?

BERNABE: Drinking, dancing, and dessert.

Jayne and River are both excited.

RIVER: Dancing?

JAYNE: Drinking? And dessert? Gotta have me some words with Mal. We never get dessert. ‘Cept on birthdays.

Bernabe addresses one of the men in the crowd.

BERNABE: Doane? A jaunty tune, if you please.

DOANE MULDOON, 30s, scrappy, wearing a ludicrous miner’s helmet that looks like it might once have served double-duty as a bowl, pulls out a guitar and begins to play.

Some of the crowd dances while others circulate bottles and pieces of pie.

Jayne wanders off to join the crowd, and River looks at Simon, who gives her an approving nod. With that, she’s gone in a flash, heading closer to Doane and the music.

Bernabe and Simon are left alone.

BERNABE: So you’re Mal’s doctor, huh?

SIMON (guarded): Yes.

In the background, Jayne has gotten his hands on a bottle of something. He offers the apple to a nearby citizen, who carefully pulls it off the knife.

BERNABE: And your sister…?

SIMON: Is just my sister. And a passenger. Is there any reason you need to know?

BERNABE: Just trying to make conversation, friend. Most folks here have things they don’t care to talk about. But some come here to talk about those things ‘cause they ain’t got nowhere else to do it. No harm meant.

Simon nods, relaxes a bit.

The two men stand in companionable silence for a few beats. A citizen passes a bottle to Bernabe, who takes a swig then passes it to Simon.

SIMON: Oh, no, I couldn’t.

BERNABE: Sure?

Simon looks around. The homey atmosphere is getting even him to loosen up.

SIMON: Why not?

He takes the bottle, downs a swig.

As he hands the bottle to a passer-by, his eye is drawn to the dancing crowd around the bonfire. Most folks have stopped dancing and are now clapping in time with Doane.

River dances alone, a creature of grace and beauty, collecting a crowd of fans. Most of the fans are men, and more than a few of them whistle.

River seems to drink in the attention, dancing with increasing abandon. The clapping continues, and she begins to reach out to the edges of the crowd, finally taking the hands of one of the MEN.

She dances with him for a few seconds, then passes to a new partner. In a frenzy of laughter and energy, she dances with a dozen men in a span of no more than half a minute. Until—

She switches partners and finds herself with Simon.

He grabs her by the shoulder, stopping her suddenly.

RIVER: You made the world stop spinning, Simon.

Simon puts a protective arm around her and pulls her away from the crowd, much to the chagrin of many of the men.

SIMON: That’s enough for tonight. Let’s go.

River looks back over her shoulder, smiling to her fans. Jayne happens to be among them.

RIVER: He didn’t like the apple.

INT. SERENITY – CARGO HOLD – NIGHT

Mal limps up the open ramp, Inara and Hicks (who has a beaten-up leather backpack) helping him. He’s bruised and battered, and one eye is beginning to swell shut.

Zoe and Wash, apparently in the middle of some discussion, perhaps about cargo, look up.

MAL (pained, mushmouth): Pack up! We’re leavin’!

ZOE: What happened, sir?

WASH: I don’t see any cargo. Should there be cargo?

MAL: Ain’t no cargo. Just a whole lotta hurt’.

HICKS: Captain—

Mal ignores him.

MAL: Wash, I want us out of this world. Now.

HICKS: Captain Reynolds—

ZOE: What about the job?

MAL: We ain’t got one. Boy don’t have the goods ready, and I ain’t about to sit around waitin’ to get nabbed by the local authorities. Who are awful unfriendly, I might add.

HICKS: Captain, this don’t change nothin’.

MAL: Other’n my urgent need to get to my personal doctor to see to it that my nose grows back at a more appealin’ angle— (waves in Inara’s general direction) I got a passenger needs to get to New Melbour—

INARA: Mal!

WASH: We’re going to New Melbourne? (to Zoe) Did you know we were going to New Melbourne?

Zoe gives him a “Shush, stupid” look.

INARA: We’re not going to New Melbourne!

Awkward beat as no one knows what to say next.

HICKS: I swear, Captain. You still have a job. If you want it.

INT. BERNABE’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

The living room is small but comfortable. Four large chairs are crammed in, and Jayne sits in one of them, eating a large piece of pie. Vera is within reach.

Simon steps in from the DOORWAY that leads to a HALL.

JAYNE: Awful nice of Bernabe to put us up for the night. ‘Specially after the way you {pissed all prissy-like} on the town bonfire.

SIMON: She was drawing too much attention.

Jayne slowly chews his pie, talks with his mouth full.

JAYNE: That it, Doc? Or was she just drawin’ a kind of attention you don’t like?

Simon says nothing.

JAYNE (cont’d): She’s your sister and all, and, sure, she’s crazy as a moon-faced wolf pup in heat—

Simon glares.

SIMON: Is this supposed to be helping in some way?

JAYNE: Look, Doc, you an’ me, we know she’s crazy, but to lots of other folks, she’s just a girl.

Simon seems almost able to accept that. But Jayne, being Jayne, pushes things too far.

JAYNE (cont’d): An’ she certainly ain’t ill-formed, if you know what I’m sayin’.

If looks could kill, Jayne would be dead five times over.

SIMON: That’s my sister you’re talking about.

Jayne grins.

JAYNE: Should make sure more folks know she’s your sister. That’s a reason an’ a half for a man to stay away.

INT. SERENITY – DINING ROOM – NIGHT

Wash, Zoe, Book, Inara, Kaylee, and Hicks sit at the table. Hicks looks downright depressed.

BOOK: How exactly did this all happen, son?

INARA: Mal.

HICKS: No. Was my fault. Captain Reynolds was just tryin’ to help.

Kaylee puts a comforting hand on Hicks’ shoulder.

KAYLEE: That’s our captain, alright. He ain’t one to ask questions.

MAL (OS, nasal): Hey! I’m standin’ right here!

Indeed he is. Mal’s in the doorway, apparently having skulked in sometime after the conversation started. His nose is braced with a bandage. Looks like he did it himself.

Wash opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and stays silent.

MAL (cont’d, to Hicks): Look, boy, I’ll take you to Haven. Bernabe, he’s a reasonable sort…

ZOE: He won’t turn you away.

HICKS: Might not turn me away, but he certainly ain’t gonna pay me, I show up empty-handed.

MAL: Pay you?!? He’s gonna pay you?

HICKS: Just room and board. For a few weeks. Til I find my place.

Mal is somewhat placated by that. Somewhat.

BOOK: There’s another issue here beyond the boy, Captain.

MAL: What might that be, Shepherd?

BOOK: Seems to me you promised your friend Bernabe a package. Seems to me it’s something he needs.

MAL (points at Hicks): He’s the one can’t deliver!

ZOE: Haven’s a place we’ve always been welcome, sir. Not sure I like the idea of breaking with Bernabe over something like this.

WASH: Bernabe’s a friend, Mal.

Mal still looks unconvinced. He stares at Wash, as if to say “Look at me. Look at my face!”

HICKS: Captain, even without Gleason’s help, we can make this work.

Mal glares at them all, and motions for Zoe to follow him to the corner of the room. She follows him as the others watch from across the room.

MAL (whispers): Conjure Bernabe had an inkling somethin’ like this might happen.

ZOE (touching his bandaged nose): Really? Bernabe must not like you much.

MAL: No, not my face. Told me to trust my instincts. Mine and yours. What do yours say?

ZOE: I think the boy’s earnest, Mal.

Mal grimaces but nods.

MAL: I agree. Much as I mightn’t want to.

He looks past her, back to the rest of the group.

MAL (cont’d): Settle in, folks. Looks like we’ll be at Fort Liberty at least a while longer.

Hicks is visibly relieved, and Wash smiles. Book offers a small nod to Mal.

Mal walks to the table and looms over Hicks, looking cold and hard as steel. His face is a frightening mask.

MAL (cont’d): Now, you’re the thief, boy, so this is your show. I ain’t comin’ up with no plan myself, and if you tell me something sounds like it’s gonna get me and mine pinched, you’re off this boat.

Hicks nods.

MAL (cont’d): An’ if you’re playin’ some game, you’re gonna lose. Dohn-lu-ma? {Are we clear, here?}

HICKS: Perfect. I don’t want to cross you, sir. Never much wanted to be a thief, but it seemed preferable to bein’ starved. Got a second chance, and I don’t see no reason to waste it.

Mal accepts that. For now.

HICKS (cont’d): Plus, I have to admit that I am {elephant penis-sized feces} scared’a you right now.

INT. BERNABE’S HOUSE – BEDROOM – NIGHT

Simon wakes with a start.

He’s sleeping on a cot, and the bed is empty, but the covers are rumpled. The room is small but comfortable, clearly Bernabe’s and Mildred’s, loaned out to their guests.

SIMON: River?

Simon looks around, gets out of bed. He hears VOICES, urgent but unclear, coming from the front part of the house.

INT. BERNABE’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS

Bernabe and Doane are near the door, which is open, talking.

BERNABE: You sure?

Jayne’s in the same chair, but the pie is gone. He’s dressed and fully awake, polishing a gun absently as he watches Bernabe and Doane.

River stands in the doorway from the hall into the living room, leaning on the frame, watching Jayne.

DOANE: Pretty gorram sure, Bern.

As Simon enters the room, he spots River watching Jayne and glares. He gently takes her by the shoulder, forcing her to walk with him.

SIMON: What’s going on?

Everyone looks at him.

BERNABE: Just got word that slavers hit Archon Point.

DOANE: Good bet that we’re next on the list.

BERNABE: Mal an’ them don’t get back soon, won’t be anyone for ‘em to come back to.