Author’s Note: Everyone belongs to Joss Whedon, except for Grace, who belongs to Christina A., and Miz Katherine, who is mostly mine although obviously Mal does have a canonical mother. 😉 Written for Christina A. for Christmas 2005. Each segment is titled after a famous Christmas story.

I: The Gift of the Magi

“Come in,” Inara called at the sound of a knock on her shuttle door. When she looked up, her eyes widened. “Mal. You actually knocked–what a surprise.”

He grinned like a little boy. “I got a better one.” Bringing his hands out from behind his back he revealed a box to her, tied with a piece of ribbon. “Merry Christmas.”

Inara stood, crossing the shuttle to take the box from his hands. “Mal, I don’t celebrate–” she started to protest.

“You don’t celebrate Christmas.” He shrugged. “I know. But seein’ as how I do, I thought it was only right to get you a little something. Consider it a early New Year’s gift if you like.”

She smiled, eyes twinkling. “New Year’s gifts are usually money.”

“Which I ain’t got much of,” he shot back with another smile. “Open it.”

She obeyed, carefully untying the ribbon and removing the lid from the box. A little gasp escaped her lips. Nestled in red tissue inside the box was a silver incense burner with a crystal bowl held up by three ornately engraved dragons. “Oh Mal, it’s gorgeous!”

Setting the box down on a shelf, she reached for Mal, taking his face in his hands and giving him a kiss that lacked much of her usual skill, but made up for it with enthusiasm.

When she let go, Mal looked a little dazed. “Whoah. What was that for?”

Inara grinned impishly. “You’re standing under the mistletoe.”

He blinked, looked up, and stared in amazement at the sprig of mistletoe pinned over the door of her shuttle. “But…but you don’t…”

She offered him a devious smile. “No. But you do.”

He laughed, long and heartily. “That I do. Merry Christmas, ‘Nara.”

“Merry Christmas, Mal.”

II: The Little Match Girl

Kaylee painted a sign with the words “Baby’s First Christmas” and hung it from the catwalk, right over the tree. Inara, Simon and River didn’t celebrate Christmas normally, but seeing as how it was little Regina’s first, they made an exception, so that when Kaylee pulled out her capture, she got a fine shot of the lot of them standing around the tree with the sign above their heads. After some coaxing on the girls’ part, Jayne had even reluctantly agreed to dress up as Santa, so they even got a capture of Redgie sitting on Santa’s knee. ‘Course, she took one look at Santa Jayne and burst into tears, and Wash promptly proclaimed his daughter a genius at the grand old age of three months.

There were presents–nothing fancy, as it had been a rough few months especially with the new mouth to feed, but for the smiles around the tree it might just as well have been the ‘verse they were giving each other. And as a special treat, they had a real Christmas dinner with a turkey donated by the Shepherd back on Haven.

Redgie was the belle of the ball, of course. Already she’d received an embroidered blanket from Inara, a toy made out of cast-off engine parts–edges rounded off, of course–from Kaylee, a knit cap from Jayne and his momma, a rubber ball from River and Simon, and her daddy’s prized dinosaur collection. Mal himself had donated the spare change from their last job that didn’t go into paying the crew and buying supplies, telling Zoe and Wash to use it to buy whatever she needed.

It was strange to remember how close they’d come to losing Wash, watching him now with his baby girl. If he hadn’t been thrown from his seat during the landing, Reaver lance probably would’ve gone right through him like it did the chair.

It was stranger to think that Wash was the one who hadn’t wanted the little miniature of Zoe he now sat holding like the most precious thing in the ‘verse. But said ‘verse had apparently had other ideas, ’cause here she was–arrived nine months to the day after Miranda.

Mal felt an odd sensation he dimly recognized as contentment, watching Kaylee twirl around with one of Inara’s old dresses that she’d made over to fit the mechanic, smiling bright enough to be seen back on Earth-that-Was. Wash and Zoe were cuddling on the other side of the tree, with the little one between them, Jayne was making crude jokes ’bout getting the ladies to sit on Santa’s lap, and even the Doc and his sister were smiling. There was no snow, no fireplace hung with stockings, no traditional reading of the Christmas story, but truth be told, he didn’t miss ’em all that much. Christmas was about family, and his was all here, safe and happy.

Weren’t no better gift a man could ask for.

III: The Twelfth Guest

The dining room at the Reynolds homestead weren’t big enough to set forty-two and never had been, so it had long ago become tradition to use the table to lay out the food, and folks ate wherever they could find space to sit. This made it no trouble to include an extra seven or eight, depending on how many folks were on-board Serenity at the time. Miz Katherine would stick a roast in the oven that was practically a full haunch, and the entire house would be decked with greenery and candles that Kaylee and Inara had helped her set out.

The war had taken a lot from them, but at least at the Reynolds place, Shadow was still standing proud and Christmas was her favorite time of year.

“Malcolm!” Miz Katherine bellowed from the bottom of the stairs. “There’s wood to be chopped for the fire and I’ll be damned if I’ll trust that Jayne character to do it. Get your heiny down here right now, young man!”

Heavy boots sounded on the steps as Mal trotted down. “Aw, c’mon, Ma. I tell you, it’s a gorramn lot wiser to give Jayne somethin’ to do. Keep his hands occupied, so they don’t get to wandering or punching.” He tried to sound put out, but couldn’t quite keep from smiling.

“I raised you better’n that, Malcolm Reynolds, than to put a guest’s hands to workin’ when there’s family about,” she scolded, but her eyes were twinkling too.

“And the hands raised me to work as little as humanly possible,” he teased back.

Miz Katherine snorted. “That would explain why I keep having to chase that lady friend o’ yours outta the kitchen. You done trained your crew to do all the workin’ for you.”

“I did not! And she ain’t my lady friend. She’s a Comp–”

“–Registered Companion, I know. But I have eyes, Malcolm, and I don’t doubt if you had a mind to it she might very well be willing to settle down and make a respectable life with you.”

Mal muttered something under his breath about Inara already considering her life respectable, but only earned himself a smart swat on the behind.

“Do I have to go get the snow shovel and shovel you out the door?” Miz Katherine demanded.

“No, Ma,” he answered contritely, bending to kiss her on the cheek before grabbing his coat and ducking outside.

Later there would be a roaring fire with the wood he’d cut, a dinner to make a man bust, caroling and gifts around the tree, but that was secondary. He was home, surrounded by the family he’d made and the family that had made him. That was what really mattered.

IV: The Other Wise Man

The prisoner looked up as Mal entered his cell. “Shouldn’t you be home celebrating Christmas with your family?” he asked.

“I will be,” the Captain replied shortly. “Soon’s we get you processed.”

“I see. Very well then, what do you need?”

Mal sat down at the table across from the man in chains, the tail of his uniform coat bunching up behind him. “Name?”

There was a long silence before the man quietly responded. “Shepherd Derrial Book.”

“Ah ah ah…” the officer held up a scolding finger. “I don’t care if we did find you hiding out at a monastary, you ain’t no shepherd. You’re an Alliance war criminal, and if you think I’m gonna forget it ’cause you’re wearin’ that collar–”

“I don’t expect you to forget it; I certainly haven’t.” The prisoner met his eyes evenly. “Yet I wasn’t at the Southdown Abbey to hide, but rather to find myself. Surely a man of faith such as yourself can grasp the concept of redemption?”

Mal looked startled for a moment, then realized what must have happened and glanced down. Sure enough, the cross he always wore had slipped out of his shirt. Flushing, he tucked it back in. “If you’re lookin’ for forgiveness, you’ve come to the wrong place. My world, Shadow, was destroyed by one such as you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the prisoner said quietly.

“Yeah, well ‘vengeance is mine’ and all that,” was the hard reply.

“If I remember my Scripture correctly, the full text is ‘vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,'” Book pointed out astutely. “Meaning it should be left to him, not trusted to mankind’s sinful judgment.”

“The Lord granted us the victory, so I think it’s fair to say I’m actin’ on his behalf. That ain’t gonna get you out of this.”

“No, I wasn’t thinking it would,” Book replied quietly. “Rather, I was thinking that your victory doesn’t seem to have brought you much peace.”

Mal’s fists came down hard on the table. “Once the Alliance knew they were losing, they just made to do as much damage to us as they could. They took everything I cared about away from me, for spite. So no, I don’t have what you’d call peace.”

“So you were lying to me,” the prisoner guessed. “When you said that you would spend Christmas with your family after we were done.”

Mal stubbornly ignored him.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me, Captain…I realize you’re not ready for that yet, even though it wasn’t me who killed your family.” He leaned forward, looking the other man straight in the eye. “But you badly need to forgive someone, and there’s no better time than Christmas. Why not start with yourself?”

Mal slammed shut the notebook in his hands, shooting one last hateful gaze in the prisoner’s direction before barking, “Lieutenant!”

A dark haired, dark skinned woman appeared at the door, turned the key in the lock and opened it. “Sir?”

“I’m done here–recommending this one for execution. Now, you go on home and spend Christmas with your husband.”

Zoe nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

V: The Snow Queen

“Zoe, tell me I’m crazy.”

“You’re crazy, Sir,” Zoe supplied helpfully.

Mal let out a long breath, ran a hand through his hair and straightened his bow-tie, then looked at his first mate. “Don’t you wanna know why?”

“Kinda figured it was just a general-type crazy, Sir. My mistake.”

He grunted, tugging on the lapels of his jacket. “Damn right it’s a mistake. I was perfectly shiny ’til she came along. Now look at me–gettin’ married. And on Christmas Day, no less!”

“Good of you to notice, Sir. I’m sure the bride will be appreciative.”

Mal ignored her. “Which, I might add, also makes me the biggest hypocrite in the ‘verse, what with the orderin’ you not to marry Wash and all.”

A sly smile crept onto Zoe’s lips. “I was being polite and not saying it, Sir.”

“Yeah, well don’t,” he retorted. “Needed to be said.” He stared at himself in the mirror for a wondering moment, then shook his head in something like disbelief. “Zoe, what’n hell am I doing marrying this woman? First time we met, she hit me!”

“You did call her a whore, Sir,” his best man–best woman?–pointed out.

“It was a job description–I didn’t expect her to take it personal!”

“Uh huh.” Zoe looked skeptical. “Been around women much?”

“I ain’t talking about just any woman, Zoe, I’m talking about *her*.”

“Well, I will admit, Sir, that your Grace ain’t quite like any other woman I’ve ever met.”

Truer than she knew, Mal acknowledged silently to himself. A wry smile curved his mouth as he thought about the story she’d told him the day he proposed–he’d almost decided River wasn’t the only crazy one on board Serenity, hearing her talk about Earth-that-Was like she’d been there, until she proved it. “No. No, she ain’t.”

There was a knock at the hatch, and it opened to reveal Kaylee’s bright face, her hair swept up real pretty above a pink layer cake of a dress she’d fallen in love with back on Persephone, one Grace had persuaded him to buy for her as a bridesmaid’s gown. “Hey you, what’s takin’ so long? Ain’t the bride supposed to be the one doing all the fussin’?”

Zoe grinned. “Just a touch of cold feet, is all. Don’t worry, we’ll get him there in one piece.”

Kaylee grinned. “I’ll go tell the Shepherd.”

She disappeared and Mal turned one more panicked glance to Zoe. “Think it’s too late to cut the shuttle loose and make a run for it?”

In answer, she prodded him towards the ladder leading out of his quarters, stopping only to tuck a sprig of holly into his button hole. “Better get going, Sir. Wouldn’t want to ruin her Christmas.”

Mal took a long, deep breath and smiled. “No. Wouldn’t want to do that.”