Picks up around half a year after the events on the movie Serenity. Will later include the 10th Doctor (the brown coat has too many possibilities to pass up on) shortly after the events of Runaway Bride, prior to the events in Smith and Jones. First story on this forum!

Mal sat in the co-pilot seat, not that he was doing anything. Jayne and Zoe leaned against his seat. It was loud enough with only the two of them, no wonder he hadn't invited the rest! River was there too of course, but he trusted her not to interfere unless she picked up something life-threatening in their future. For the moment at least, she was focused on the controls of Serenity, currently orbiting Whitefall.

"We need the money. We've got to take the job! I ain't seen a credit since 'fore Miranda!" Mal itched his neck. He hated it when Jayne agreed with him. Showed he was getting too damn desperate.

"I don't like it sir."

"You heard the man Zoe. We need the money. Besides, the thing with Badger was ages ago. And it was him what offered the job."

"Sir, no offense intended, but when has siding with Jayne ever resulted in anything good? It's just, our heads are on every wall in the system, it ain't safe to make a deal with someone we don't trust."

"And remind me Zoe, who do we trust? Exactually, if we don't take risks we don't eat. So don't talk to me about 'safe'!" He felt bad, yelling at Zoe, especially when she was pregnant. Made him damn twitchy, his first mate carrying something inside her He almost laughed at himself for that, he should know better. Zoe could handle herself, and he'd learned long ago to respect that. Men who didn't were liable to find holes in their feet.

"Fine. What does our little genius say?" He swung himself up, striding over to lay a hand his newest pilot. She shrugged,

"It doesn't matter. He'll find us. The Storm is coming. And the baby wants to go." She pointed at Zoe's protruding stomach. Mal wasn't sure what to make of that.

"See? Can't go arguing with unborn babies." Zoe smirked. Mention of the baby made her happy.

"Fine sir. Don't come running n' tell me when he shoots ya." River interrupted. She was getting that glazed look, like something nonsensical was 'bout to come out. Like Miranda.

"The Storm!" She shrieked "He's coming." And with that, she left the room, leaving its other three inhabitants to mull over the ominous sentence.

Mal sat in the cockpit. The others had left, and he had set course for Ariel. The Storm. It didn't sound good, and Mal knew from experience that things that caught River's attention, particularly those she bothered to share tended towards the disastrous. She didn't say things like that quite so often, not since Miranda. Simon didn't have to medicate her at all anymore, and about 98% of what came out of her mouth was coherent. It was the sudden relapse to her old demeanor that frightened him the most. Perhaps he should check with Simon? He resolved to do so later, but a he knew a conversation with the young doctor would only irk him further. He needed to go find Inara.

Inara tossed her arm over the couch. The room, while still the most sophisticated thing nearly anyone on board had ever seen, had fallen into disrepair, in Inara's eyes. While the bed and everything else remained elaborately draped in all types of expensive fabric, if you looked closely, some of the most beautiful (and valuable) golden knicknacks that had so fascinated her clients had disappeared, and her wardrobe, while still exquisite, had many fewer options. "Come in." She knew from experience that Mal would continue to stomp around like an elephant until she let him in. "What's the matter?" "Nothing, no, nothing, just looking for a chat with my favourite whore." She rolled her eyes. She knew he enjoyed their little spats as much as she. Their relationship had improved recently, but she knew he would only seek her out if something was bothering him.

"Oh don't play Mal. What's wrong?" He shuffled his feet some more. She was tiring of this, about to press more when he answered.

"It's River. She doing that prophecy thing again. It felt good, at Miranda, being some big damn hero, but I don't think I can do it again. Last time, we lost Wash, the Shepherd. I almost lost you. God, if I believed in you, I'd pray we don't have to face something like that again." Sweet. Mal was always sweet, at the heart of it. She smiled at him, stretched her hand into his.

"We'll get through this," she smiled, "Promise." For a minute he smiled back. Then his lip curled and he turned away. It was too late though. He'd already set her heart a flutter.

He hurried down the hall. He stared at his hand, all too aware of where she had touched him.