Great fic. Your Simon's a bit more uptight and brittle than I think of him, but by the end, my heart's just going out to him as he's trying to navigate the space between being River's brother, savior, father, and jailer. I particularly love the way both River and Mal help him - in their own ways - start to get there.

A couple favorite lines:

Simon turned his head just in time for a glimpse of that fussy irritation Mal usually reserved for price-hikes and shoddy welding.

What a great description.

Up on one knee already, Mal closed his hand over her shoulder, covering the whole joint with his broad palm. "Took a fine jostle, there. Might be you can walk okay, might be you can't," he explained, and slung his other hand under her knees. "Anyway, Doc's in a tizzy, got to humor him." He came to his feet, massive and square, and Simon looked up at him like a colossus. In his arms, River looked like a child. She had twisted her torso to talk to Mal, serious-faced, interrogative.

"Why don't you carry him, then."


Great comeback. Completely had me chuckling.