They’d been on Lazarus for nearly a week, during which Freya had recovered beyond Simon’s wildest hopes, Inara had been wound up mercilessly by Mal over Dr Nazir until she’d shouted at him to go away, and Jesse hadn’t stopped crying. Well, maybe for an hour or two.

“You okay?” Mal asked, leaning into the doorway of the ‘maternity suite’.

“Fine.” Freya was lying on her back, fully dressed, one arms thrown across her eyes.

“Only you don’t look fine.”

“I'm fine.” She emphasised the second word, but didn’t look at him.

“Okay.” He glanced significantly around the room. “Where’s Jesse?”

She sighed heavily. “Guess.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.” She lifted her arm away but stared into the ceiling. “My daughter. My flesh and blood. Six days old. And she won’t stop crying for anyone except River.”

“Frey –“

“For River!” She shot him a glare, then went back to studying the slightly peeling paint above her. “I must be a terrible mother.”

“No, you ain’t.”

“Then why can’t I do it?”

“’Cause she’s Jesse. You didn’t have the problem with Ethan, did you?”

“No, but –“

“Then it’ll solve itself.”

“How?” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, glaring at him. “How exactly is this going to solve itself?” She shook her head. “I can’t stop her. Everything I do, everything I try … it just ends up the same.” A tear forced itself out of the corner of her eye, and she wiped it away angrily. “She doesn’t love me.”

“Whoa, now, hold on there.” Mal crossed to sit next to her. “Where’d that come from?”

“She can’t. Otherwise it would be me who could stop her crying.”

“Maybe …” He wondered how to put it, then decided to jump in with both feet as usual. “Maybe you’re trying too hard.”

“Too …” Her jaw dropped. “Too rutting hard?”

“Frey, when you had Ethan, your abilities were … well, only just on their way back. Maybe you’re broadcasting and Jesse’s picking up on it, and it’s … well … scary.”

“Scary?” If anything her jaw fell even lower.

“Not scary. Didn’t say scary,” he quickly backtracked. “Unexpected.”

“You … you think I'm scaring her?” Another tear, this time ignored.

“No, honey.” He pushed it away with his thumb. “No, of course not. But she’s six days old. Maybe she just needs you to be you.”

She stared at him, then slumped against his side. “I am a terrible mother.”

“No, you ain’t. You ask Ethan.” He put his arm around her, cuddling her. “I reckon you got some of that Post Traumatic Stress the doc was talking about.”

“You mean Post Natal Depression?”

“That’s the doodad.”

“Am I? Depressed?”

He took a moment to study her. “I think maybe, a little.”

“Damn,” she whispered.

“Come on,” he said. “I conjure I have just the answer for that.”

“Don’t tell me. Lots of pills. Or maybe you think Dr Nazir might be able to help?”

“Now that’s a thought, but … no. I got something better’n that.” He stood up, taking hold of her hand so that she couldn’t help but let him pull her to her feet.

“What?”

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Just come on.” He led her out of the room and through the common area to the cargo bay door. “Take a look at that.”

Freya did as she was told, and her eyes widened. The doors were open, letting in the warm air of an early Lazarus summer, and sitting on the floor on a blanket were Bethany and Ethan, Hope and Ben sitting together as always, Fiddler lying on his back between them having his belly rubbed. Jesse lay next to Ethan, her little arms reaching up to the air.

“Um, Bethie?” Freya called.

“Yes, Auntie Frey?”

“What are you doing?”

“Playing cards.” Bethany held up her hand and Ethan did likewise.

“Cards,” he echoed. “Got a good hand, Mama.”

“Right.” Freya paused. “But why are you naked?”

Bethany looked down at herself, then at the others, all without a stitch of clothing apart from the baby. “Jesse said she wanted to be naked,” the little girl said, going back to studying her cards. “But I told her she had to keep her diaper on. Yuck.” She grimaced at the very thought.

Mal glanced quickly at Freya, but she shook her head at him. “Bethie, Jesse didn’t really say that, did she?”

“Well, not actually said. But I knew she wanted to be.”

“Bethie.”

The little girl sighed theatrically. “No. She didn’t.”

“So whose idea was it?”

“Mine.”

Freya looked up to the catwalk at the same time as Mal.

“Dear God in Heaven!” he declared, covering his eyes.

“River …”

“What?” The young woman came down the stairs, not a shred of fabric on her pale frame.

“I didn’t see!” Mal insisted. “I really didn’t see!”

“It’s liberating,” River said. “You should try it.”

Freya couldn’t help her lips curving. “Just put some clothes on, will you? You’re upsetting my husband.”

“He’s seen me naked before.”

Freya turned to look at Mal.

“First time when you came out of the box!” Mal said. “I ain't seen you naked since!” He pulled his hand away without thinking to glare at her, then closed his eyes again just as quickly. “I ain't seen her naked since, Frey.”

“River, please get dressed.”

River’s sigh was very close to Bethany’s. “All right.” She picked up the dress that was lying unnoticed by either of the others from a crate. She slid it over her head. “Decent now.” She made it sound almost unhygienic.

Mal peeked, then exhaled heavily. “Good.”

“You know, this isn’t fair,” River said. “It’s perfectly natural to be naked.” She looked at Mal. “You were. In the desert.”

“That weren't my choosing.”

“Doesn’t mean you weren’t. Kaylee was very impressed.”

“River –“

Freya interrupted before the conversation could degenerate even more. “And put some clothes back on the children. I know it’s warm, but I don’t want any of them catching a chill, especially Jesse. And that floor isn’t exactly clean.”

“Hey!” Mal was inclined to feel insulted.

“People traipse in and out every day, Mal. And some of them don’t exactly wipe their boots.”

He considered. “Point taken.”

“They’re on a blanket.” River was pouting a little. “It still isn’t fair.”

“What if someone had seen?” Freya asked. “What if Jayne –“

“Hey, moonbrain, I found those counters you was looking for,” the man himself called from the catwalk outside the shuttle. “Oh, hi.”

Freya looked up, then suddenly found her gaze obscured by fingers. “Mal!”

“Just keep ‘em closed,” her husband ordered, his hand still covering her eyes. “Jayne, you go put some clothes on before you damage someone permanently.”

“Aw, Mal!”

“Now, Jayne!”

“Spoilsport.”

Freya wriggled free in time to see a well-muscled and very naked backside disappearing into the shuttle. She turned on Mal. “Jayne’s right. Spoilsport.”

“You want to see the big lug buck naked?” Mal asked, his eyebrows threatening to disappear into his hair. “You want I should get him back and give you a parade?”

“Might be fun.” She smiled. Then chuckled. Then laughed out loud. “You can be such a prude at times.” She shook her head. “Your face,” she added, laughing until tears ran down her cheeks.

Mal stared at her, then began to grin. At least it had cheered her up.

“Auntie River, what’s a prude and why’s Uncle Mal one?” Bethany asked, then realised all the adults were laughing. She sighed. She’d never understand grown ups.

---

Freya wrapped the huge towel more securely around herself, and padded through into the bedroom. A waft of jasmine-scented steam followed her, and Mal smiled. It had been more than two weeks since Jesse was born, and as this was their last night on Lazarus before leaving for a job, she was making the most of the facilities.

“Enjoyed your bath?”

She nodded. “I might have enjoyed it more if you’d been with me.”

“Now, darlin’, you know that ain't gonna be any good for a little while. Not until Simon says it’s okay.”

“Doesn’t mean you couldn’t have joined me.” She rubbed at her head with the corner of the towel.

“Let me.” He scrambled off the bed and stood behind her, gently drying her hair. “And you know it means exactly that. You’ve got a pretty good idea what was like to happen if I’d got you naked in that tub.”

She sighed happily. “Absolutely.”

“Even if I knew I wasn't supposed to.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you tempting me?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Just seeing if I still did.”

His brow furrowed. “What makes you think otherwise?”

“Well, it’s going to take a while for my body to look anywhere near normal. I've had two kids, Mal.”

“Really? Thought that was just you getting fat.”

She elbowed him. “That’s where your children came from.”

“I figured that was the stork.”

“Mal, if a stork ever visited Serenity, Jayne would probably shoot it and we get it served up to us as dinner.”

“True.” He rubbed her back dry, her tattoo winking at him above the towel. “Frey, I don’t care what you look like. I know you had Jesse and Ethan in you, and I know you’re gonna work hard to look like you did. But it doesn’t matter to me.” He put his arms around her, and she leaned into him. He groaned slightly. “Frey …”

“Sorry, was I tempting you too much?”

“Just a little.” He didn’t let go, though.

“Then I won’t.” She moved away herself, dropping the towel and picking up her robe.

“Frey, that ain't helping.”

She pulled it on quickly. “Sorry.”

He retreated to the bed, laying down, his stocking feet hanging over the edge. “Did you have a nice chat with Dr Nazir?” he asked idly.

“Did I?”

“Saw you down by the beach. When I was taking Jesse and Ethan for some air.”

“Really.” She sat down at the dressing table and picked up a hairbrush.

“So?”

“So … what?”

“Frey, come on. Tell me. I've a notion you let your curiosity get the better of you and you might have happened to be talking to the good doctor about Inara.”

“Doctor/patient confidentiality, Mal,” she said, pointing the brush at him in the mirror.

“He’s not your doctor.”

She pretended to think for a moment. “True.” Turning, she smiled. “He likes her. More maybe than he’d like to admit.”

“Well, she’s a beautiful woman.” He saw the glint in his wife’s eye. “So I've been told.”

“It’s all right, Mal, I know she is. But I don’t think that matters to him. He’s seen under the shell, inside the mask she wears.”

“And it ain't scared him off?” He ducked the hairbrush.

“Anyway, he was asking about her.”

“I thought they’d done nothing but talk?”

“Not that kind of asking. What she likes. Dislikes. Her favourite flower, perfume, that kind of thing.”

“You mean he’s considering courting?”

“I don’t think he’s actually thought that far, particularly since …” She bit her lip.

“What? Come on, Frey, you can’t stop now.”

“I think he’s a little bit afraid.”

“Afraid? Of Inara?”

“You know he was married before.”

“I think I had the idea, yeah. You mentioned it. Wasn't there something about seeing his daughter before coming to Lazarus?”

“That’s right. Well, he told me a bit more about her. His wife. It seems she died a couple of years ago. An accident, he said.”

“That’s bad.”

“Apparently she was a wonderful woman. An artist.”

“I recall you saying.”

“I think that’s partly what attracts him to Inara.”

“But she’s not an artist.”

“Yes, she is. All that training to be a Companion, well, that’s high art. Making people see what you want them to see, to feel how you want them to feel … sometimes that’s all art is.”

“So he’s seeing his wife in Inara?”

“No, not at all. But I think it worries him.”

“Maybe he needs a good talking to.”

“And all you’d do is scare him even more.”

“Me?” He sat up, his hand on his chest, a most injured look on his face. “How’m I scary?”

“Looked in the mirror lately?” Her hand snaked out and caught the hairbrush thrown back. “Now, now, play nice.”

“Anyway, I wasn't the one threatened to kill him if he hurt Inara.”

She shrugged, her robe slipping from one shoulder. “I was pregnant.”

“Hormones?”

“Probably.”

“Somehow I don’t think you can keep putting the blame on them.”

She grinned. “Course I can.”

Mal went back to the matter in debate. “So you think he’s going to make a move?”

“Maybe. Not yet, though. But he did say he thought his work with Inara was pretty much done.”

“Should be. He’s been here long enough.”

“Yet he didn’t say a thing about moving on. Going back to Ariel.”

Mal grinned. “Sounds hopeful.” He crossed his legs. “You know, she could do with some man to make her feel again.”

“Just so long as you weren't considering applying for the post.”

“Don’t need to, xin gan.”

She smiled. “But you’re right. She needs someone, even if it’s just an affair.”

“Think that’s what old Samuel might provide?”

“He’s not that much older than you. And I don’t think he’d do that. Love her and leave her. I get the feeling this might actually be something more.”

“Well, long as they don’t take too long to get themselves sorted out.”

“Like us, you mean?”

“You know, I can’t keep apologising for being a hwoon dahn for all those years.”

“I know. And I couldn’t be happier.” She leaned forward.

“I could be.” He watched her breasts as they swung into view. “Frey, please …”

She sat up and tightened the belt. “Sorry.”

“Is that all you and Dr Nazir talked about?”

“Should there be something else?”

“Well, just that you said he offered, if you needed to … you know, talk.”

“No. Just that.”

“Oh, good.”

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze thoughtful. “You know, there is something we could do. Well, what I could do for you.”

His breath caught. “You think? I mean, I didn’t know if you’d even feel like doing that.”

“You think you don’t attract me any more?”

“Well, after what you went through, just because I –“

“Mal. I love you.”

His face relaxed. “That’s real shiny. I love you too.”

“Only if we actually started anything right now, I think you’d find that –“ A small wail started in the crib next to the bed, and Freya laughed. “Our own little alarm clock.”

“Time for a feed?”

“Last one, then she should sleep through. She’s a good girl.”

Mal leaned over and lifted his daughter up, holding her against his chest as Freya crossed to them, settling herself onto the bed. She opened her robe and let Mal place Jesse in the crook of her arm, lifting her breast so the little girl could latch on.

“You know, this kinda makes you a captive audience,” Mal said, watching his daughter feeding.

“What had you got in mind?”

“Ethan. And his walls.”

“Ah.”

“I figure I've been patient, but this is something we do need to talk about.” He took a deep breath. “Is Ethan a Reader?”

“Technically, no, I don’t think so. I think he is empathic, though.” At Mal’s slightly blank look she went on, “He feels emotions.”

“Like you being sick. Me worrying about it.”

“Exactly. He might even be able to tell when someone’s lying, which would be of help to a crew like us, you know.”

“Ain't letting him anywhere near the kinda people we deal with sometimes.”

“And I’d shoot you if you did.”

He grinned. “Deal. But you don’t think he can read minds?”

“No. There’s no sign of it.”

“And these walls?”

“Bethany showed him how to build them when I was on Persephone. Helped him block the feelings.”

“Could he …” He was afraid, his mouth dry. There was no point in pretending, nothing to gain from saying he wasn't. “Could he be made to be a Reader? Like River? Like … like you?”

“Mal, I …” Freya closed her eyes, images sweeping through her mind. Jesse began to whimper.

“Hey, hey,” Mal said quickly, one hand on her arm, the other on Jesse’s head. “Take a breath.”

She did as he said, regaining control. Jesse stopped in mid-cry, clamping her mouth back.

“Sorry,” Freya said, mostly to her daughter. She looked up. “Yes. They could.”

He swallowed. “Then we won’t let it happen.”

“No, we won’t.” She touched Jesse’s cheek. “You know, it is possible he’ll grow out of it. Or maybe just forget how to. The walls Bethie helped him build are pretty strong, and he keeps them up most of the time. As he gets older it might be that he’ll not remember how to lower them, maybe even forget why they were there in the first place. Just a flash occasionally, something he’ll put down to intuition.”

“Would that be better?”

Freya nodded, her brown eyes locked with his blue. “Oh, yes. I want him safe, Mal.”

“That’s what he’ll be.” There was silence for a few minutes, just broken by the sound of Jesse suckling.

“By the way, I spoke to Simon earlier.” Freya spoke almost as if in passing.

“Oh?” Mal wasn't really listening, just content watching her breastfeed. At least, he wasn't listening until he felt something tossed into his lap. He looked down. It was her little red recording machine, the one she used for notes, the one she’d used to let him know that it was okay for her to … He looked up so fast he almost got whiplash. “Frey?”

“We take it carefully, sensibly, maybe not go all the way the first time or two, maybe just a massage …” She grinned.

The look on his face was worth more than rubies. “Frey …”

“Have to get some use out of the place tonight, Mal. ‘Specially since we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“But if you’re still sore –“

“Then we’re sensible, like I said. Can’t tell until we try. And I do heal quickly.”

“Surely do.” He smiled, looking somewhat mischievous. “You know, I kinda feel grubby. Permaybehaps I’d better be taking a bath. And I think I've got some lube somewhere …”