Mornin' Book,

Hope everythin' goin' good up there in the Land o' Bright and Shiny. Sorry about the last letter. I got kinda mad not being able t' figure anything out. You'll know, I wrote that four days ago, not long after I got it into my own crazy head that the crazy girl ain't so crazy when she's not bein, well, crazy.

So, I almost kissed her, you know that. But I didn't tell ya that she ran away from me. That Chase fella looped her up pretty gorramn bad. But she's all back to bein quiet-like and creepifying. Septic flushes ain't penance enough t' keep me outta that Special Hell. The li'l pixie knows just how much I been thinkin' on her, but she still voids me like I'm diseased. Mebbe she jus hates me.

Wish you were still round, havin' sum smart words fer me. Wrote home to Ma agin, but didn't say nuthin' bout the pixie. Even liftin' ain't helpin' me think no more. Keep lookin' fer moonbrain up on the catwalk, or crates, or sumthing. Still can't figure out when it all went t' tian fuhn di fu.

Sorry, preacher. Gotta watch m language if yer gonna be readin' this.

Right so. I guess I stopped thinkin' of them as mega-bounties after the whole… Ariel stuff. (now, I know you didn't like that none, so I wont' bring it up agin.) Still wanted 'em off the ship, cause they were all disruptifying. Y'remember how she got almost… normal 'fore we shipped you off at Haven? Couldn't think a' leavin' her anywhere.

But then 'course, I found the bear. 'member me writin' you 'bout that? The ballerina thing I found in that frilly shop? I still think I did right by her… apologizin' that way. Never had to say it neither, she knew rightly 'nuff. Sides, first time she smiled at me. Y'know how her smile was… y'got to see it fore you went off t sit with Him.

Pixie ain't never had a normal girliness. Thought on that a lot last night. She ain't never had frilliness, never had no boy datin' her, never got a summer dance or a corsagey. She went from li'l pixie girl, to deadly pixie assassin in, what, a year? Two? I'm never gonna furget the way she looked all… deadly and… and… not crazy… when them blast doors at Universe's moon opened up.

I'm gonna smack the doc, onna these days, fer coddlin her like he do. But whaddya say t' the brother of a girl who thinks she's bein more of a weapon than a girl? "'Member, she can break ya head open with her pinky finger"? this last week broke us all… the data chips she made me grab? Some of 'em had tortures recorded on 'em. Simon still thinks one of 'em is the moonbrain.

I need t'lock her up till she figgers out she's a girl, not a gorram weapon. Part a me wants to treat her like one a my girls, and the rest of me, sorry Preacher, but… it wants the fastest ticket to the Special Hell.

What'd you tell me, Shepherd? Do what's right? 'S voidin' her right? Do I gotta make her talk, or just ignore t'all? Wish I knew. Wish ya could tell me. Maybe some thievin' and trim on next planet-fall'll figger it out fer me.

Jayne