Thanks for the kind comments concerning the first part, I forgot to add at the beginning that the Firefly characters are obviously someone else’s property and that I am neither intending nor likely to make any money out of this.

I haven’t figured out if it is possible to reply to reviews personally so for Blueeyedbrigader’s benefit I’m ashamed to say that though I am half Welsh (Mother’s side) I don’t speak the language and had to dig out a phrase book.

Chinese translations are courtesy of a web site and I hope they’re not ridiculously wrong.

To reply to both written reviews, I hope this answers some questions.

As I mentioned in the first part chunks of the plot are swiped from the favourite Western of my childhood, anyone like to guess? :-) Reviews are more than welcome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In Sunshine and in Shadow Part 2

“Dros fy nghrogi! Sides, it won’t be mine, it’d be yours.”

Owen Thomas was giving some kind of pep talk to his two remaining and mighty sullen gun hands.

Mal stood back and let his friend bring his men to order, it was kinda comforting to watch another man be argued at by his crew. The bar had cleared out after the fight, only the serious drinkers lurked in the corners.

Jayne appeared at his elbow, half his fly buttons undone, his girl still hanging off his shoulder.

“Did I miss a fight? There’s a whole lotta blood out front.”

Mal took a look at the girl, her hair was mussed, her buttons were done up wrong and part of her skirt seemed to be tucked in her underwear. She had the misty look of the well plastered or the well…something else.

“Yep you missed it.”

“Damn!” Jayne let go of his girl who ended up in an ignominious heap on the floor. “A fight could’ a just finished the day off right. You could’ a called me”

“It was over too quick, looks like you were busy… Am I gonna have some angry father chasing us with a gun?”

Jayne looked down at the girl who was making some spirited but ineffective efforts to get up.

“Ain’t gonna happen, she’s a biǎo zi, didn’t damn tell me till I got her outside, I could’ve saved a whole lot of coin on drinks.”

Mal sighed, bent down and got the girl on her feet. “Hey Barkeep, where can this one sleep it off?”

The bar owner displayed a weary lack of surprise.

“Has your fella done right and paid her proper?” Mal looked at Jayne.

“Sure I have, she’s got a purse round her waist, damn thing got in the way.”

The Barkeep came round and took the now dead weight out of Mal’s arms. “She’s got a room here. I’ll put her to bed, leave her a bucket, same as I do most nights.”

They watched the Barkeep hoick the girl over his shoulder.

Mal looked after him with his face all bleak, some things just got him down.

Jayne not being one to worry about the rights and wrongs of life as long as his itches where being scratched was watching Owen, both Bravo’s where still mightily pissed but the yelling had stopped and Jayne regretfully concluded that there would be no more fights today.

Mal tapped Owen on the shoulder “Can I talk to you for a minute.”

“Sure ffrind, what time do we eat?”

“There’s the thing, that girl your men are so all fired up about is now a passenger on my ship as far as Whitefall. Question is can I stay here long enough for us to have dinner, or will there be the law or your fella’s trying to storm my boat?”

“The law such as it is won’t be interested, no one’s gonna complain, I’ll see to that same as I’ll see to it that you get no personal trouble…. Did you say Whitefall?”

“That’s where she wants to go and she’s got the coin.”

“Whitefall is where we’re headed, got a job lined up.” Owen snorted, “Black’s smaller than you think… Tell the girl to watch her back and keep her head down, Whitefall’s gonna get more than interesting pretty soon. I’ll tell you all about it at dinner, eight o’clock ok?”

Some time before Mal had asked his new passenger her name in a fairly blunt fashion.

“Allana Baedillion-Trehearne.” She gave him at least four beats for a comment before adding, “You can call me Al.”

Al was now aboard Serenity, she’d walked back with Zoë stopping on the way to pick up her pack and do some shopping at the post office and general store. After eight months she was going home, she knew what her fare would be and how much coin that left her. For eight months she had spent barely enough to keep her alive, she had used her savings and sold everything that she had of value to catch the bastards that murdered Johnny Diamond.

She threw off the subdued hard wearing clothes that had carried her across several systems, rammed them in the garbage chute and slapped the evac. Button. She felt giddy.

Next stop the showers and the heady pleasure of washing in soap that didn’t smell of rendered animal fat, of having actual shampoo in her hair.

She’d brought some new ‘sensible’ clothing in the General Store, but sensible was not what she was after tonight.

Right in the bottom of her pack was the only other set of clothes she had brought on her journey. It was what Johnny Diamond had called her party dress, brought for her on her eighteenth birthday with a whole month of his winnings. If she had had to she would have sold it but she was glad she had this one thing left.

It was actually a little on the loose side now but not too bad. High to the throat with lots of tiny buttons down the back and a skirt that went right down to her ankles. Unlike many ‘Chinese’ dresses this had no embroidery, Johhny had spent the money on real high quality plain green silk and good tailoring plus a killer pair of matching green silk shoes. It was a damn fine dress.

“Ai-yah. Tyen-ah, zhòu mà kòu!” It was a damn fine dress with lots of tiny buttons at the back that she couldn’t reach. She kicked the wall hard. “āi yōu tòng!”

There was a muffled knocking noise from her hatch door.

“Can I help you with anything?” It was a female voice, a bit on the nervous side, but not one that Al could identify. She didn’t answer, just yanked the hatch open and looked up into about the most beautiful face she had ever seen. Suddenly all her efforts to prettify herself seemed kind of a waste of time. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kaylee was disposed to like the new passenger, Zoe had come into the galley where she and Simon where sharing a cup of coffee, (that being the least athletic and downright dirty of their activities that afternoon) and dumped a bag on the table.

“New passenger brought them, Owen Thomas is coming to dinner, think you can do some Kaylee magic?”

Kaylee opened up the sack and cooed with joy. Dried meat, some dried, some fresh vegetables, herbs and spices and dumpling mix could be seen at the top. She dug down some and found…

“A Melon, Simon we got a Melon! And Oranges! I love our new passenger!”

Kaylee had a battered cookbook that belonged to her Grandmother in her bunk, she didn’t get much chance to practise her cooking skills on Serenity and was off to fetch her prized heirloom with her work boots clattering on the deck.

“Who is our new passenger?” Simon asked Zoë bemused.

“A stone cold killer Doc.”

She already had two black eyes, a broken finger and a cracked rib. Her husband was kind enough to bring the Doctor to her; The Doctor had given her some ointment for the bruises, splinted the finger and suggested that she rest to allow the cracked rib to heal, the Doctor, a woman she had know all her life and had thought was her friend was silently sympathetic but scared out of her mind.

And now he was back, talking to her from the shadows of the room, talking to her using lines that could’ve come out of some trashy melodrama, she would have laughed at the clichés four, maybe five months ago but now she was sick, sick to her stomach with fear at the sight and sound of him.

“Your future’s in your belly my dear and it’s best that you answer me honestly. Your first husband and your mother in law are gone. You must look to the future and shed the shackles of the past. Tell me…” He walked into the light and looked down at her with the cold fire in his eyes. “Where can I find your son?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Welsh Translations Dros fy nghrogi - Over my dead body

Chinese Translations (to the best of my knowledge) Ai-yah. Tyen-ah – Merciless Hells zhòu mà - Damn kòu - Button biǎo zi - Whore, Prostitute