“So it’s safe for me to assume you got history with this Mitch Cornell,” Zoe prompted over the kitchen table. Gabriel nodded after taking a drink of his rehydrated orange juice. “Right after I started workin’ fer Haskal,” he began, “he’s gotta go outta town on some business, see. So he gives me the fey-oo job of entertainin’ his ol’ lady. ‘Parently, she’s got this thing fer fly fishin’.” He waved his hand and shook his head. “Never much cared for it, personally. I’m more of the kind to drop a line, kick back, have a few beers, an’ wait for a nice big cat to bite. “Anyway, so we go to this lake, and I’m tossin’ chum into the water. For the cats. You usually can do that for catfish or, if there’s an ocean about, for sharks. She warn’t fishin’ trout or bass; I dunno what the hell she was fishin’ for, but it don’t matter for me to make the point of the story. So she’s doin’ her fly fishin’ thing, an I’m aways downshore on the dock with my line in the water, an this Li’l Willy (that’s Cornell’s big bro), he’s comin’ up the shore all crafty-like, trussed up like an assassin. Gloves, ski mask, the whole kit an’ caboodle, an’ he’s got his knife out, ‘cuz he plans to cut up Haskal’s ol’ lady. So I see him, I grab my filet knife from the tackle box, an’ I go out to meet him.” “And you had a knife fight?” Kaylee inquired. Gabriel nodded again, finishing his orange juice. “Cut me up *bad,* too. Blood everywhere. Hurt like a son of a bitch. I got him back just as bad, though, an’ he’s tryin’ to climb up onto the dock, an’ I got hold of his knife after losin’ mine. And I plant that knife square between his shoulder blades.” “Cornell’s holdin’ a grudge?” Zoe guessed. Gabriel shrugged. “Apparently, whoever *thinks* they own this land is important enough that Mitch ain’t gonna make good on his wantin’ me dead. Not right off, at least.” “You know what Mal’s gonna say when he gets back, right?” Zoe clarified. Gabriel got up and moved to pour himself another glass. “That it was stupid of me to bring us to a hidin’ place where I got a lot of enemies?” “Bingo,” Zoe confirmed. “So, what’s the plan?” Inara wondered. “Are we going to leave, or are we going to fight them?” “My vote’s for runnin’,” Gabriel spoke. “We don’t need this, an’ the house ain’t that important to me.” “I say fight,” Zoe countered. “This is as good a hidin’ place as any were likely to find. But we don’t vote in this life, do we? We do what the captain decides when he gets back.” Gabriel leaned back against the counter as he went to work on the second glass. “Indeed.” *************************************************************************

“What the hell is this?” Mal insisted, staring at the unconscious form of Hayze that dangled in Jayne’s strong grip. “Saw her walkin’ down the street,” Jayne explained. “She went inside that store, so I follered ‘er. Knock to the head, an’ out the back door with her.” “Did she see us?” Simon queried. Jayne shook his head. “Nah, but I didn’t wanna take that risk.” “Well,” Mal berated, “by taking her *captive,* you *did* take that risk. No, scratch that, ya flat-out let her *know* we were here. How do we know she ain’t doin’ a little shoppin’ for the rest of her team, who may be nearby an’ will soon start to wonder why she disappeared?” Jayne shrugged. “Well, hell, Mal, I dunno. I just nailed ‘her ‘fore she nailed us, that’s all.” “No,” Mal corrected, “what you *did* was likely destroy our chances of hidin’ here. What you *should* have done was let *me* know you saw her so we can hightail our happy cracks *outta* here *unnoticed.* Now, what are we gonna do with her? We got supplies need pickin’ up, horses to buy, an’ if we cut our losses an’ go back empty-handed, how’s the mule gonna run decent with five?” Jayne frowned. “Mule can still run on five.” “Yeah, but it’s *slow.* If we got an unconscious someone in the back, I’d sorta like to get outta town in decent time. What do you think?” “Now hold on!” Jayne insisted. “I reacted the way any normal fella woulda. I saw a threat, an’ I took care of it. That’s what you *pay* me fer.” “Apparently, I don’t pay you to *think* before you *act.*” “Chu ni duh!” Jayne responded. “Now just hold on a minute,” Simon interjected. “We can make this work, guys. We just have to think it through.” “Okay, Doc,” Mal continued, crossing his arms. “What genius plan do you think you can craft in that steel trap you call a mind?” “Okay,” Simon began, “firstly, Jayne’s the one who knocked out a high-profile adversary, so I say, it’s *Jayne’s* problem.” Jayne rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately, it is *not* just *Jayne’s* problem, it is also *our* problem,” Mal corrected, “but I think what you were tryin’ to get at was Jayne caused the problem, so *Jayne* should fix the problem.” “Hold on here!” Jayne insisted. “Right,” Simon agreed. “So I think our best bet is to let Jayne take her back to the house with the mule while we gather our supplies, then he can come back to pick us all up.” “I don’t like it,” Jayne observed. “Don’t much care for it myself,” Mal concurred. “Try again.” Unable to take the mind-numbing banter any longer, River stepped into the mix. “The *best* way for you cretins to handle this situation is to hide her somewhere, get our supplies, and buy our four horses. Mal and Jayne can take the horses back, Simon and I will ride in the front of the mule, and we can put the woman in the back, laying down and out of sight, along with some of the supplies.” She crossed her arms and looked at her students with superiority. “*That* way, we accomplish all of the objectives we traveled her to meet, and at the same time, we fix the problem of having an unconscious woman with us.” Mal, Jayne, and Simon all exchanged glances. “I like it,” Mal decided. “Me, too,” Jayne agreed. “I think it’s our best bet,” Simon concurred. “Why don’t we ask the genius for her opinion more often?” Mal wondered. “‘Cuz she’s moonbrained,” Jayne told him. “And I know this is a lot for your tiny brains to process,” River added, “but *please,* for the love of all that is sacred, do not let anyone *see* you put the woman in the back of the mule.” “Well, *I* coulda told ya *that,*” Jayne announced. *************************************************************************

“How’d the shopping go?” Kaylee asked, moving to greet Simon with a kiss as he exited the mule. “Interesting,” Simon replied. “We brought home a gift.” “A non-banana,” Mal added, dismounting his horse. Gabriel squinted. “What, by the sound of the seven trumpets, are you jawin’ at?” Jayne left his two horses with Mal and climbed up into the mule. “This,” he grunted, lifting a limp body from the back seats. “Catch.” Gabriel caught the woman with little to no effort. “Wuo de ma!” he exclaimed. “This is one of Ritter’s men!” “Women,” River corrected. “Jayne found her wanderin’ around town,” Mal explained. “Thought it a good notion to ambush her, so we had to bring her out here.” “Well, for hump’s sake, let’s get her tied up!” Gabriel insisted, taking the woman into the house. “So we got two problems to deal with,” Zoe stated. Mal frowned at her. “Why? What happened while we were gone?” Zoe wrapped the back of a hand on Mal’s arm. “I think we’d better go inside, Sir.” *************************************************************************

“*Don’t give me the innocent story!*” Foster demanded over the Comm. “*You *know* where they went, and I want you to tell me.*” “I assure you,” the Operative insisted, “I have absolutely no idea where the crew is hiding. Don’t get terse with me over your people’s ineptitude at finding eight individuals on a small ship.” “*Gun-hoe-tze-bee-dio-se...*” Foster muttered, glancing away from his camera for a moment. He refocused his gaze on the other man. “*Why should I trust your word on this?*” “I hear no one telling you that you should,” the Operative replied. “I give you information only at my leisure. I don’t work for you, I have no allegiance to you...” He leaned back in his chair and raised his hands in a shrug. “I tell you what I tell you, and you can choose to listen to my advice... or not. The choice is entirely yours.” Foster gritted his teeth, and the Operative almost expected another string of expletives to emanate from his goatee-framed mouth. Instead, he took a deep breath. “*Fine. So whether you’re lying or not makes no difference. I won’t be getting my answers from you.*” “I will give you one helpful piece of advice,” the Operative continued. “I’m not so sure how well you can trust this Dante fellow to be honest with you.” Foster shook his head. “*Dante is a mutant by my hands, but his mutation is unstable. My stabilization serum is the only thing keeping him alive, so it would be in his best interests not to *piss me off.**” The Operative leaned closer to his camera. “Are you *sure* he’s really dependent on your serum?” **************************************************************************

“I was right,” Gabriel boasted, looking to Zoe. “He called me stupid.” “Damn right!” Mal exclaimed. “And while you were hatching this grand scheme to run home an' hide out in the old homestead, it never popped into that little Gabriel mind of yours that there may be some people around here that don’t like you very much?” “What did you expect?!” Gabriel shot back. “For someone with my past to be on Earl Grey and scones terms with every single rutter in this territory? And since when have you been shy about goin’ places where you’ve made enemies?” “I do that for *business,*” Mal stressed, “not when I’m tryin’ to *lay low,* Gab.” “Well, my apologies, *Sarge,*” Gabriel retorted. “I promise, the next time we’re bein’ hunted like dogs across half the blacky black, I’ll pick a nice tropical resort and a hotel.” “With purty girls in those grass skirts?” Jayne joked with a grin. “I like them skirts.” “What are we going to do about this?” Zoe inquired, both to get to the point and to end the argument before it escalated any further. Mal blew air out of his nostrils as he pondered the possibilities. “We take this crew out,” Mal asked Gabriel, “we lookin’ at any other surprises while we’re here?” Gabriel shrugged, then shook his head. “Not unless Haskal’s wantin’ to rehire me. That ain’t likely; I’d wager he don’t want a gorram thing to do with me, now that I’m hot merchandise.” “No other long-standing grudges that might make a fella ride all the way out here nosin’ fer trouble?” Gabriel thought a moment, then shook his head. “There’s still some neighborhoods I’d be a fool to ever visit again, but nobody else that would wanna track me down. Biggest problem I see followin’ this would be whoever Mitch’s boys are workin’ for, thinks he owns my farm. He might let it go; he might not.” Mal nodded. “Any idea how many men he’s bringin’ with him next time?” “More than four,” Kaylee chipped in. “He didn’t go into specifics.” Mal stood in silence for a moment, thinking. “Let’s do it,” he decided finally. “Let’s take ‘em down.” “I was right,” Zoe boasted, looking to Gabriel. “We *are* gonna fight.” *************************************************************************

“I don’t think we’re entirely up to this,” Kaylee confided, itching at her cast as she climbed into bed. “We’re all just so *wore out.* I think that hole me an’ Gabriel fell down was bad luck or somethin’, cuz it’s just been one thing after the other after the other since.” “Mal, Zoe, and River looking for the two of you while Inara helped me entertain two of Ritter’s men,” Simon began, “followed by the Reaver boarding, then half the crew getting kidnapped by Ritter. After that was the Takira standoff...” He ran a hand over his hair. “I agree; we’re burned out.” “Well, if we can take care of this problem,” Kaylee added, “maybe we’ll be able to relax some.” Simon chuckled. “Are you forgetting which crew you run with?” His gaze became more distant, and he frowned as he finally heard the noise drifting through the walls. “What *is* that?” Kaylee giggled. “River.” Simon’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened. “Wha- I...” He suddenly became very flustered, and that turned into speechlessness. “Oh, come on,” Kaylee urged, pulling his mouth close to hers. “We can beat ‘em. Whaddaya say, Champ?” *************************************************************************

“Where you goin’?” Jayne inquired as Mal slid off his floor-situated air mattress and stood. “I may as well sleep with the horses,” Mal replied, pointing at the ceiling. “How’s a man s’posed to rest while certain individuals are engaged in a disturbing volume contest?” Jayne laced his hands behind his head and grinned at the ceiling. “I’m comfy right where I am, thank you. This’s what I call, ‘entertainment while you sleep’.” Mal shook his head. “I think I found my tagline. ‘Don’t *need* to know; don’t *wanna* know.” The twin feminine throat noises floating down from upstairs traded increases in volume, and Jayne started laughing and clapping. “This *is* a fun game!” he exclaimed. “Think I might not sleep tonight, after all.” “Yep,” Mal decided, although he wasn’t quite serious. “Definitely sleepin’ with the horses.” He found a shirt in the dark, pulled it on over his head, and moved through the kitchen to the front door. “I’m wakin’ ya up in a couple hours to go check on our prisoner in the basement,” he called over his shoulder. “Inara!” Mal greeted, spying the woman standing on the porch and gazing off into the distance. “Thought you went to bed.” Inara turned to glance at him. “I couldn’t sleep.” “Yeah, with the Nocturne Sisters in there harmonizin’, I can see why,” Mal replied. “Oh, or is it that you ain’t as tired as ya were *last* night?” Inara stared at him for a moment as pearly-white teeth spread her ruby lips in a smile. “Did you just call Kaylee and River, ‘The Nocturne Sisters’?” Mal glanced into the darkness absently for a split second. “Uh... yeah. Why?” Inara laughed. “What does that even *mean?*” “Um...” Mal began. “It *means...* they’re engaged in traditionally nocturnal habits, which, by the by, I *don’t* wanna know about, but I do, an' it's hard to be in denial with *that* goin' on. An’ they are doing it *vocally.* Nocturne bein’ a night setting *and* a song; it’s a double meaning sorta thing, yanno, like a *humor* thing. And *yes,* I’ve heard a classical song. Try not to faint.” Inara snorted as she laughed again. “Was that a snort?” Mal inquired in mock-shock. “Did I just hear you *snort?*” Inara’s laughter became even louder, and she covered her mouth with her hand. Mal extended his hands, palms facing up, and did a little spin with a false look of despair. “*Great,* now I got *three* loud females keepin’ me up. I hope the horses are quieter than this.” “They smell a bit better than you, though,” Inara prodded, trying to get her laughter under control. “I hope you don’t offend them too badly.” “I’ll take a dip in the water trough ‘fore I bed down,” Mal assured her. As the joking died down, it was accompanied by a moment of silence. “See, there?” Mal wondered. “Isn’t that nice?” Inara looked back over at him. “What’s nice?” Mal slid his hands into his pockets and met her gaze for a moment. “Us talkin’ without fightin’. It’s nice.” “It is that,” Inara agreed, gazing back into the dark distance. “I don’t believe I've heard the words ‘thief’ or ‘whore’ mentioned once the entire evening.” "I like yer real smiles better than yer fake ones, too," Mal admitted. “But are they *ever* gonna go to sleep?!” he uttered, turning back toward the house and looking up. “My horse idea is lookin’ better an’ better.”