Firefly: "The Gilded Cage"

Disclaimer: If I weren't just a poor college student and could finance the series myself, I would, but I can't. So all I can do is just play around in Joss Whedon's 'verse. Also, I don't know a lick of Chinese so I haven't bothered to put the translations because they're probably horribly wrong. If it were Japanese or Latin, well, that'd be another story...

Episode eleven of my second season of Firefly: As the crew settles down with Kaylee's folks to build a new shuttle, Inara confronts an old friend with the information she learned about Saffron.

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It took a lifetime of rigid Companion training for Farah to resist the urge to chew her lip or bite her nails; however she was unable to prevent herself from taking the occassional glance at her surroundings. The architecture of House Madrassa was perfect for eavesdroppers--indeed, all of the Guild's architecture suited those who preferred to hide in the shadows; there were tall pillars, numerous statues, numerous shrubs, massive trees, broad balconies and hanging tapestries. Farah's hazel eyes skimmed over any within her expansive quarters, especially the wide balcony overlooking the emerald valleys, before returning her attention to the face on the screen.

"That's all I learned about 'the Bride,'" said Inara Serra, and though she tried to hide it, Farah could easily pick out the sour note in Inara's voice at the mention of the rogue. At another time, Farah might've smiled and teased her friend about the slip, but there was no mirth in this situation.

Giving another look around her room and finding nothing more threatening than a statue of Shiva, Farah addressed Inara's wave with a harsh hiss of a whisper. "Inara, this is not a secure channel to be discussing the activities of the Bride! You should've sent word so that we could've arranged a more private conversation!"

"Farah?" Inara frowned in confusion. "You're the Head Priestess of House Madrassa. What could be more secure than a conversation with you?"

"You've no idea, Inara," said Farah, leaning her head forward until it was almost in contact with the screen; the brightness of its light washing out the color of her toffee skin. "You would if you had stayed to become Head Priestess instead of me. Inara, this conspiracy you fear is one I've known ever since my appointment to this hated position. I'm happy you've uncovered it--it pleases me to have someone to speak about it--but now I fear for your safety. Inara, the power of this conspiracy within the Guild..."

"Farah, are you all right?" inquired a concerned Inara, who mirrored her friend's posture by shifting closer to her screen. "Are you safe?"

Farah whipped her head around at Inara's question; her heart was beating with apprehension and sweat was beading upon her pristine complexion. Never had she gone behind her Mistress's back so blatantly before. Never had she dared to incur the wrath of him. Yet this was Inara, perhaps the most gifted Companion to ever grace the Guild. If anyone could help her...

"Inara, where are you?" requested Farah desperately, turning back around to address the face in the screen. "I'll meet you and I'll tell everything I can about this conspiracy. Maybe we can plan something to save the Guild."

"Save the Guild?" repeated Inara, who had certainly underestimated the extent of the conspiracy's power. Recovering quickly, Inara managed to stammer out her location, "Uh, I'm on Whittier; the Fryer--it's a scrapyard by the town of Lu-se Cheng. We're expected to sit here a while, so..."

"It might take a few weeks, but I'll be there as soon as possible," promised Farah earnestly. "Stay safe, ban-lu."

"And you," returned Inara with face full of consternation.

Farah tried her best at a reassuring smile before she clicked off the transmission. A sigh of relief passed her painted lips, and she brushed her forehead against the cool edge of the flatscreen.

"Well, well," drawled a chilling, whiny, high voice that was painfully familiar to Farah. It was followed not long after by the click of a switchblade popping. With a gasp, Farah whirled around, knocking the expensive screen off its stand in the process.

"Blues..." she exclaimed in a frightened whisper, ignoring the shattering of the screen.

Blues towered behind her as if he'd been there all along despite Farah's constant checking. He was fashionably dressed in a dark, pinstriped suit with a silken scarf draped across his shoulders. Pristine, white gloves covered his hand as he fiddled with his silver-plated, heavily engraved switchblade. Blues tilted the brim of his fedora up to reveal his pale, gaunt, angular face. A chilling smile was spread on his lips, which showcased his small, sharp teeth.

"What've we here, precious?" asked Blues rhetorically. "A little naughty knows our secret?"

"Blues, please," begged Farah even though she knew it was futile. The silken, velvet cushion she was crouched upon nearly slipped out from under her as she moved frantically to claw at his shins.

"Please? Please what?" smirked Blues cruelly as he stared down at Farah. "You know the rules, baby. I need to inform the Mistress and she'll decide what way to punish you. Meanwhile, that friend of yours looked mighty sweet. Seems to me her face is ringing a few churchbells. Miss Serra, wasn't it?"

"Blues, don't..."

"You don't have any power to be arguing with me from your position," cut across Blues, dropping the edge of his switchblade so that it brushed against Farah's cheek. "You're nothing but a whore after all."

With a cruel cackle, Blues folded up his switchblade and stepped beyond Farah's reach. He gave her another tip of the hat before disappearing into the shadows as mysteriously as his arrival. Farah stared off into the darkness from her spot on the floor; her fingers curled around the shag of the carpet while her body trembled with impotent rage.

*****

"Got word from the docks. The transport carryin' Jayne and Hex to Three Hills left," reported Serenity's pilot, Kyo Nagiama as both he and Captain Malcolm Reynolds jogged down Serenity's steps towards the cargo bay. After a beat Kyo added, "Without incident."

Mal paused around the turn to look at Kyo over his shoulder. Sighing reluctantly, Mal reached into the pocket of his shirt to dig out three platnium coins. He tossed those coins to Kyo before continuing down to the cargo bay floor.

"Sir, I hope you know better'n to place bets with a psychic," chided Zoe Washburne lightly as she organized the piles of scrap for a quick and easy unloading. River Tam sat on one of the crates with a spool of material by her side. She looked to be sewing something, but Mal was hard-pressed to know just what.

"I'm not that kinda psychic, Zo," said Kyo while Mal moved towards the door controls. "I read minds not the future. It was a perfectly fair and random wager."

"Well, somethin' don't sit right with me," said Mal as he opened up the double doors. "I mean it's Jayne. On his own. On a transport full of folk. You mean to tell me you don't think somethin' bad'll happen?"

"Hex is with him, sir. I don't think he'll let Jayne far from his leash," reminded an amused Zoe.

"Fair to say," shrugged Mal, looking out at the rolling prairie lands of Lu-se Cheng. His last trip to Whitter netted him a truly genius mechanic, and Mal had to take that as a shiny sign. The prospect of sitting planetside and kissing dirt for weeks, maybe months, didn't sit well with the Captain of Serenity, but he had to believe the shuttle they'd build would be worth the time. Besides, after their recent fortunes it wasn't as if they were hard up for scratch.

Still, Mal thought faster would be better; the quicker they started building, the faster they'd be back in the black.

"Where's Kaylee's folks anyhow?" wondered Mal as he stared off towards the barely active docks of Lu-se Cheng. "Weren't they supposed to be meetin' us? You parked us the right place, didn't you?"

"Hey," exclaimed a mildly offended Kyo, now standing at River's side. "I put us down right where we're s'posed to be. Ain't but a five minute walk to the Fryer."

"It's all right, Cap'n," came the cheerful voice of Kaylee Tam moments before she emerged from the passenger hatch covered in engine grease; her husband, Simon, trailed behind. "Daddy should be along in a few. I'm sure he just got wrapped with his fiddlin' and tinkerin'. Don't matter much anyway, 'cause I know where he parks the hauler. I'll just hop on over and bring her here! We can get unloaded in no time."

The prospect of meeting his father-in-law appeared to turn Simon a light shade of green, which stood out on his pale skin. Mal couldn't help but feel a certain twinge of sympathy towards the good doctor. After all, his previous encounter with the elder Frye didn't exactly bode well for Simon.

*****

Kaylee had asked her daddy and had returned with him in tow. Bester was shuffling uncertainly in the space between the rest of the crew and the new mechanic. His job and hers depended entirely on what the old man might say. There was some resemblance between Kaylee and Forge, most notably with the forehead and jaw. However, Forge's skin was darker from his hours in the sun; his hair was white and wild with streaks of soot and grease; his posture was stooped slightly because of the heavy apron he wore along with the toolbelt slung around his waist that look fit to burst. He looked over Serenity with narrowed eyes and worked his mouth thoughtfully while Kaylee bit her lower lip anxiously beside him.

Mal had tried to make the introductions when it became clear that Forge was just going to stand and stare. He stepped forward with his hand out and announced himself, "Hello Mr. Frye, my name's Malcolm Reynolds. I'm the captain of Serenity."

Forge Frye showed no indication of having heard him however, and simply continued his inspection of Serenity. A completely nonplussed Mal looked back at his assembled crew of Zoe and Wash before turning towards Kaylee who could only give a sympathetic shrug.

Finally Forge turned to address his anxious daughter, but all he said was, "Do what you can with it."

With that he walked out of Serenity's cargo bay. Oblivious to the stares from five sets of eyes on his back. In the dead silence, it was Wash's perpetual humor that filled the void.

"Quaint," he laughed as he hopped forward to assist Kaylee with her modest luggage. "Nice guy. Really. I can see where you get the smile. Um, I'm Wash and I'm the pilot of Serenity. I'm also arguably the best looking member of the crew. Well, no, not really. There's no arguing involved; we all know I'm the best looking."

Mal rolled his eyes, but Wash had managed to bring a comfortable smile to Kaylee's face. He watched as the pilot began to show the new mechanic around, fitting into an easy banter like they were born to be friends.

*****

Thoughts of Wash made Mal pull his mind out of that memory. It was good timing because just as Kaylee made her way down the ramp of Serenity, the sound of a hauler approaching made her stop. Everyone but River turned their attention out the open doors of Serenity as the beat up, six-wheeled flatbed rolled into view. The paint looked to be chipping and cracking where it wasn't dented in, but in spite of that there wasn't a sign of rust anywhere. On the passenger side door was a sun-faded decal of a flower that made Kaylee brighten in remembrance. She'd painted it back when her father first bought the hauler, and she had needed a stool to properly reach the spot on the door.

The hauler turned and reversed so that the flatbed was presented with easy access to Serenity's ramp. Forge Frye emerged from the driver's side of the cab looking unchanged since the last visit. Kaylee rushed forward to embrace him, which he returned awkwardly with one hand. Mal heard Simon clear his throat and watched the young doctor adjust his tie out of nervousness. Jayne didn't know what he was missing.

"Hi Daddy!" greeted Kaylee warmly, staring up at her father who kept his eyes on the piles of scrap; his hand was still absently patting Kaylee's back in a mechanical fashion. "I organized the piles just like you like! Got 'em all set up for an easy load. Yup."

Forge's grunt was the only indication he'd heard her as he gently pushed her aside so that he could reach back inside the hauler for a clipboard. While going through the checklist glowing on the parchment, he made his way up Serenity's ramp with Kaylee trailing behind. Simon chose that moment to descend the ramp and make his introduction with hand extended.

"Um, hello--ah--Mr. Frye, my name is Simon and I'm..." Simon trailed off when Forge brushed past him heedlessly. Kaylee stopped to take Simon's offered hand in her own and give it a squeeze. Even Mal had to shoot Simon a sympathetic look, having gone through the exact same with Forge. "It was nice to have met you too, sir," added Simon to himself.

Forge knelt at the first pile of scrap and began to examine it closely. His bushy brows rose in intrigue as he checked the hull plating's weight and density with only his callused palms.

"This is high-quality material," noted Forge in a gruff voice to match his face. "You could sell it and buy two Fireflies for what it's worth."

"Well I'm not a greedy man," said Mal, tucking his thumbs into his gunbelt. Being addressed by Forge was something he was certainly not used to. "We take what we need to keep flyin', and what we need now's a new shuttle."

"You haven't got enough parts here," concluded Forge after his summary examination. "Unless you were plannin' to build an empty shell of a shuttle and propel it by pushin'."

"I told 'em they could use whatever you've got 'round the heap, Daddy," said Kaylee tentatively. Forge turned to look at his daughter with a neutral expression on his face. "I--well--we'll pay. It won't be a gift or nothin'."

"Got some other people to call in," added Kyo, who'd long since known they'd need at least a chasis to start with. "See if Virgo hasn't sold everythin' of the old Wolfhound yet; 'specially the weapons system. Don't think we'll find that 'round the Fryer."

"You might be surprised at what you do find," said Forge before he turned and walked back down the ramp. As he passed Simon he said, "Laurel is waitin' back at the house to meet you. I wouldn't disappoint her."

"No!" said Simon quickly, still unsure how accepting Forge was of him. "No, of--of course not."

"C'mon, Simon, I'll introduce you!" said Kaylee, tugging gently at Simon's arm. "River and 'Nara can come too, right Cap'n?"

"Don't see why not," said Mal with a smile. "Zoe, Kyo, let's help Mr. Frye load up that hauler of his."

"There's no need," said Forge unconcernedly while he reached for the radio within the hauler's cab. "Bester, get over here to help with the haul."

"Bester?" asked a dumbfounded Kaylee.

"Bester?" added Inara, looking anxiously towards the oblivious Simon and the fearful Kaylee.

"Bester?!" echoed Mal, looking like he'd just spotted Jayne wearing a bunny-suit.

"Shiny! This thing's got an echo!" said the man in question as he walked into view. It seemed to Mal that Bester had not changed in the slightest; same olive-drab shorts and vest, same tattoos, same boots, and same blonde hair. Even that gorram, bobbing strut of his was still the same. Mal felt like he'd walked into a flashback.

Oblivious to the assembled crew Bester continued, "Hey, y'know I flew on a Firefly before I got stuck here? Pretty strange, Forge. Pretty strange..."

"Guessin' somethings just don't change," muttered Mal under his breath. Zoe could only smile sympathetically to both Mal and Kaylee. The return of Bester--or, more accurately, the rootedness of Bester--would make this stay planetside all the more agonizing for Mal; he just knew it. Maybe he should've gone with Hex to visit Jayne's folk. Certainly they couldn't be poised to have a worse time.

*****

Simon was itching to ask about Bester. There was a connection between him and the rest of Serenity's crew that he was missing out on. It was yet another selfish instance of where he wished to have River's psychic powers for just a little while. Then again, observing her current sewing project that no one could figure out, he believed his own mind was perfectly fine within the confines of his skull. No gallivanting through other psyches for him.

Besides, Simon had other concerns at the moment; namely the cheerful woman standing on the porch of a very simple little cottage. The moment she spotted the group approaching, Simon noted she looked positively ready to explode with happiness. There was little doubt that the woman was Kaylee's mother.

"Kaywinnet Lee Frye!" shouted Laurel Frye in greeting; her bright smile undercutting the rebuking use of Kaylee's full name. "Didn't I teach you better'n to stray so long without a look-see now and again? And gettin' married?! Ren-ci jia bing quan qi ren-nai! Why weren't we at least invited to the weddin'?"

"Stop your harpin', Laurel," said Forge as he approached the porch. "The girl's been old 'nough to make her own choices for a while. 'Sides, she brought the boy home. What more d'you need?"

"A chance to see my only precious off would've been nice, I should think," retorted Laurel, crossing her arms over her chest as she addressed her husband. "That's not too much for a mother to ask, is it?"

Forge wisely said nothing as he turned to address Kyo. "My office's in the back. We'll use it to plan out this shuttle of yours. Bester can see to the unloadin'."

"Right," nodded Kyo. "Still need to see to Virgo 'bout my old Wolfhound."

"I'll go and help Bester unload," announced Mal. "Don't want him muckin' with the...y'know...and...the..."

"Thinkin' he might be holdin' a grudge?" asked Zoe in her pragmatic way.

"Was thinkin' 'bout sussin' that out, yeah," returned Mal on his way around the house to the field in the back.

"Are you he, then?" asked Laurel, placing her hands on Simon's shoulders with a firm grip. "My aren't you a handsome thing! Oh, you really netted a good one, Winnie."

"'Winnie?'" mouthed Kyo before he was forcibly shoved into the house by River, who still had her attention focused on her sewing.

Laurel tilted Simon's face up by the chin as she looked him over like she was a picking out a slab of meat for Christmas dinner. "And a doctor you said? My, my! All Core educated and lookin's sharp in that fancy suit of yours! Why I dare say you'll give me the prettiest, smartest grandchildren I could ask for!"

"Momma!" exclaimed an alarmed and horrified Kaylee while Simon took to blushing a furious pink. "Momma we just got married'n'all!"

"Never too early to start plannin' for the family, Winne," lectured Laurel, giving Simon a smile of approvement. "And with this one, why he'll bring in so much cash you'll be free to tinker with your toys here with your Poppa!"

"Momma--"

"That might not be entirely possible, Mrs. Frye," said Simon as diplomatically as he could manage.

"Well whyever not?" Laurel demanded to know, placing her formidable hands on her hips. "You're a doctor, ain't'cha?"

"Well, yes," said Simon hesitantly; he looked over towards Kaylee for a sign of support, but she looked as helpless as he in this situation, "but what Kaylee might've neglected to mention was my current status as a fugitive."

"A fugitive!" errupted a scandalized Laurel. Simon could see in her eyes the exact moment her opinion of him shifted, and he had to wince at the look. "What kind of a doctor are you? What on Earth-that-was could a kind-lookin' boy as yourself be a fugitive for?"

"It's a long story, Momma, and I promise Simon's not at all to blame," hurried Kaylee to explain as she tried to lead her mother into the house. "Let's just grab some tea and we'll tell you all about it."

A suffering sigh passed Simon's lips once the two Frye women disappeared into the cottage. This was not the start he had hoped for, and yet it was going better than the meeting of his parents with Kaylee, though he thought there was little consolation to be found in that comparison. And old-fashioned tooth extraction would've been preferrable to his father's condescension, but the overly-abundant praise from Mrs. Frye wasn't any better in Simon's opinion. Steeling himself for the inevitable, Simon passed through the threshold.

*****

"Huh," sighed Virgo thoughtfully after hearing Kyo's request. He began to rummage around his desk for the papers he sought, which wasn't a easy task given that the girth of his belly pushed him beyond arm's reach of his desk. Virgo let out a satisfied sigh once his sausage fingers curled around the invoice and bottle of Chinese whiskey.

"Ya, ya, I thought as much," rumbled Virgo as he stroked his stubble. "Ah, the Wolfhound's gone, Kyo. Sorry 'bout that. Sold off a piece here 'n' a piece there, y'know how it goes."

"Well, don't you got anythin'?" wondered Kyo, knowing that weapons would be hard to come by on a planet like Whittier. Buying and shipping from another world would be an unwanted risk given the problems the Rebels were causing the Alliance. Blockades were coming down hard on smuggling rings, trying desperately to find out how the Rebels were getting their hardware.

Virgo gave Kyo a broad grin as he took a swig of whiskey. "Oh I've got lots, Kyo. See 'em Rebel boys need ships more'n they need fighters. Transports. Stuff that's incog-whatsits. That means that while the Wolfhound's gone, I've still got me a pile of her weaponry just sittin' for sale. Hell, I've even got the Cub still intact! Now, y'say yer buildin' a shuttle fer a Firefly? That Serenity what parked here last? Gonna have to shave it down some, but 'tween you and that girl, I'd say you could manage."

"Great, Vir. Just send it on down and I'll wire some credits to your account."

"Now hol' on a minute, Kyo!" said Virgo loudly, holding up a beefy hand in protest. "Them parts are yours, way I see it. Sellin' off the Wolfhound's covered all my expenses and then some, so if you be wantin' the Cub and the guns back I can just give 'em."

"Fine," agreed Kyo, "but I'm payin' for the shippin'!"

Virgo let out a hearty laugh before cutting the transmission. Kyo leaned back into the over-stuffed chair behind Forge's desk. The office was mostly dark; the only light came from the sun that filtered in through rusted holes in the sheet metal walls. Scattered images littered the desk; snapshots of the past that didn't seem to fit the man Kyo had met. If he hadn't caught a glimpse of that life with every look Forge gave to his wife or Kaylee, Kyo might've thought the life in the photos was a lie.

A sense of contentment washed over him at the thought of the Cub being back in his possession. Serenity and her crew made him realize how lonely his existence on the Wolfhound had been, yet he also realized that the Wolfhound was an integral part of him. He couldn't explain it in words, but he wanted the security of the closest thing he had to a home to be with him.

River slipped into the garage and Kyo felt her presence immediately. Without opening his eyes, he knew she was still focused intently upon her sewing project. He wanted to pry--he always wanted to pry--but that just simply wouldn't be fair; not when he could control his abilities and she had no choice but to be open to everything.

"Wolf needs his den to raise a family," she announced clinically. Kyo was glad for their solitude after he tipped over in the chair with a loud crash and landed awkwardly on the ground; Mal would've never let him live that down.

"Shen-me, lai?" coughed Kyo as he struggled to regain both his footing and his composure. "Family?! We haven't--I mean--you ain't--'cause, not that there's... Did you really have to do that?"

"Yes," said River simply, but she raised her face long enough for Kyo to see a ghost of a smile on her pale face. Kyo wiped his own in exacerbation before resetting the chair in its regular position.

"So you gonna tell me what the shroud's for?" asked Kyo instead, gliding over the whole family prospect--not that he was opposed to the idea...much. There were complex issues wrapped up in that little Pandora's Box that he didn't feel ready to open. "And the dress you're puttin' together? Never figured you for Inara's style. Whatever happened to that slinky number you wore, anyway?"

"Wedding veil," said River in a deadpan that had Kyo narrowing his eyes in scrutiny at River. "And I'll wear the slinky dress again if you give me a reason to."

"Well there ain't much reason for you to be wearin' slink on Lu-se Cheng, but maybe next time we hit a Core world..." Kyo trailed off. It was a dangerous prospect in bringing the Tams back to the Core, but the search for them had cooled off greatly since the war started. The Alliance and Blue Sun've had more important things to focus on instead of scouring the 'verse for one girl. Truthfully, Kyo missed the Core. The danger and excitement there were different than that of the Rim. Smuggling jobs there always had a little extra edge. Pushing those thoughts aside for the time being, he focused back on River. "About the sewin'?"

"Something to hide behind when the trouble starts," was River's reply.

Kyo adopted a graver tone at that and took a step forward to examine the sewing. "What d'you need me to do?"

"Just keep an eye out," River answered with a mysterious smile.

*****

Inara stood on the porch of the Frye household, staring off into the glittering sky of Whittier. There was too much of a gap between sky and land for it to be anything like her home of Sihnon. Sihnon was like a sea of light; stars melding with floating palaces melding with ships melding with the grand cities on the ground. Despite the activity, there was always quiet if you needed it. It was tranquil and harmonious in a way she hadn't discovered since, and there were many nights she longed to be back home.

Home.

Footsteps creaked on the old boards of the porch and snapped Inara out of her longing. She spied Zoe at the door with a cup of coffee held in her hands.

"Sorry," Zoe apologized, moving to leave. "Didn't mean to disturb you."

"No, not at all," propriety driving Inara to speak hastily. "I was just... One can be alone even if they're with many. You look like you needed to do some thinking yourself. I assure you, I won't pry."

"Not thinkin' so much as admirin' the scenery," replied Zoe, moving out to stand firmly on the porch. "Each planet's different, and each planet's got it's own unique view of the 'verse."

"You must've seen a lot of it," said Inara with the slightest hint of envy.

Zoe gave a half-shrug as a misty smile fell over her face. "Was born on a ship. Raised on a ship. Then slipped on over to the Independents with the idea of bein' a career military. Fair to say I've seen more'n most."

"I haven't seen anything to match Sihnon yet," reminisced Inara just as wistfully as Zoe. "Have you been?"

"Once," nodded Zoe. "Never docked. We just flew past it on the way to Londinium. Been a long time since you've been home."

"Very," agreed Inara sadly for a moment, "but I'll be receiving a piece of Sihnon here."

"Really?" inquired an intrigued Zoe.

"A friend of mine will visit," Inara informed the first-mate of Serenity. "We'll discuss Guild business, but I hope we might be able to squeeze in some gossip time. It's been a long time since I've seen Farah."

"Close friends?" asked Zoe, wondering how Nandi and Cassandra fitted in with things.

"Something like rivals," clarified Inara with a gentle smile. "Friendly rivals. We were always compared to the other in terms of skill. Who was best was a hotly contested issue between everyone but us. In truth, there were few people I could relate to like Farah. I've missed her in my journeys, but she's been incredibly busy as Head Priestess of House Madrassa."

Zoe gave a very impressed whistle. "Guess a job like that don't lend itself to travel much."

"Not for leisure, no," agreed Inara.

*****

"So, Bester..." broached Simon while he strolled with Mal and Zoe through the town of Lu-se Cheng. It wasn't any different from Jiangyin where he and River'd been abducted by isolationist zealots, which did little to put Simon at ease with the place.

"Right, Bester," nodded Mal noncommittally as he examined some fruit--a pointless endeavor since both the Frye household and Serenity were well stocked. "He was the mechanic 'fore we picked up li'l Kaylee. Fired him on the spot, matter-of-fact."

"I see," said Simon, glancing over towards Zoe who kept her attention on the deserted, dusty streets. "I think it's fair to say I'm grateful for that decision."

"One of the many, no doubt," added Mal quickly, giving Simon a roguish smile.

"Yes, indeed," agreed Simon, sharing a smile of his own with Mal. "It's just that I never really imagined you firing anyone. I have a hard time seeing why anyone would want to leave Serenity."

"Fairly ironic words of yours, seein' as how I remember you wishin' off 'fore Miranda," retorted Mal easily; there was no sting to the words but the sting provided by Simon's own regret.

"Well, I never really... I mean if River hadn't been put--not that I'm blaming you--I mean I guess I didn't want to know how much River could take care of herself--"

"Doc, you're ramblin'," pointed out Zoe kindly, which only served to get Simon more flustered.

"What I'm trying to say is that Serenity's home," declared Simon finally. "You treat your crew like family, so knowing that you can just fire people--"

"Bester weren't family," interjected Mal quickly. "Bester was... Well, I ain't quite sure what Bester was to be fair, but he weren't like the others. He just didn't fit in the way Kaylee did, and he weren't near as useful as Jayne. Ain't one of those things you can explain, Doc. 'Sides, it ain't like you got anythin' to worry 'bout. Bester weren't no top-three percent like yourself. Fair to say we won't find a more qualified trauma surgeon out here in the Rim."

"That wasn't why I was worried, Mal," said Simon, who was quite used to Mal's humor.

"Well, you're worried so often I just had to pick me a reason," Mal went on joking and even Zoe's stoic mannerism was cracking.

"Revenge, Captain," said Simon, returning to the use of formalities out of frustration. "Don't you think Bester might want some sort of revenge for you leaving him on Lu-se Cheng?"

Zoe let out a short bark of laughter at Simon's fear. "Wouldn't worry 'bout that, Doc, Bester just ain't the type. Right, sir?"

Mal smiled back at Zoe. They're little chat with the man as they unloaded the parts had made that abudantly clear; Bester held no hard feelings towards Mal. He did his best to explain to Simon without revealing too much, "Look, Doc, Bester don't got nothin' on his mind 'cept what's for dinner or who to bed. Takin' revenge on me or rattin' you out to the Feds just ain't the concern of that boy. Trust me, Simon, y'ain't got nothin' to concern yourself with."

*****

"Look, a Capissen Thirty-Eight engine!" announced Bester to Kaylee as they toured the scrap yard. Kaylee took in Bester's cheerful smile and did her best to return it, knowing that the engine was a death trap waiting to happen. At Kaylee's less than enthusiastic response, Bester tried again by motioning at it and giving the rotor a spin. "See? Capissen Thirty-Eight engine!"

"Oh I see," said Kaylee with a polite nod, wondering just why Bester was being so enthusiastic. She gave a look around, trying to see if Kyo or her father were around. At the moment, both were examining some pneumatic tubes while discussing what operating system would work best for the shuttle. She knew her father well and could mouth along his side of the arguement.

"Hey, you don't gotta worry," said Bester, cutting through Kaylee's distraction. "We won't get caught like the last time."

"'Like last time...'" repeated a confused Kaylee until understanding hit her like a lightning flash of horror. "No!" exclaimed a shocked Kaylee, followed quickly by a more emphatic and audible "NO!" that made Bester fall against the clunky contraption.

"Wha--why?" asked Bester as he struggled to extract himself. "I thought... But don't engines make you hot?"

Kaylee buried her burning face into her hands and began to walk away from Bester. She had gone three paces before spinning back abruptly to march angrily into Bester's face. "Tian de hong ci-bei! Are you blind? Can't you see I'm married? Look! Look at my ring! Didn't you hear my Momma go on 'bout it? 'Cause she sure did to me!"

"That?" inquired Bester, pointing needlessly at the gold band on Kaylee's finger. "They still mean that? Really? A-and that was you your mom was harpin' on 'bout?"

Kaylee looked intently into Bester's eyes with her head tilted. "Nope. Nothin'."

"Wha--hey!" exclaimed an offended Bester as Kaylee began to walk away again. "Well, how was I to know? You was jumpin' all over me anxious as hell to--"

"To see Serenity's engines," finished Kaylee shortly without turning around. "And if that meant sexin' you up some, well then that's what I'd do. Case you haven't realized in your time here there ain't many ships what choose to stick 'round long enough to let a prairie harpy like me tour their ship!"

Comprehension that Bester'd simple been used finally dawned on him. Swallowing down his flayed ego, Bester reluctantly began to trail after Kaylee. It wasn't that he wanted a relationship going with Kaylee--he never wanted to be in a relationship to begin with--it was more like it'd been going on a year or two that Bester hadn't had any comfort but for his hand and Kaylee seemed like the best option for relief. Full of frustration and disappointment, Bester parted ways with Kaylee to head back to his room.

*****

Kyo laid on his back beneath the chasis of his gutted Cub. Things were going surprisingly on schedule. In the weeks before the delivery, they'd finalized what parts were available and acceptable for use at the Fryer. By the time the Cub and weapons arrived, they'd already customized most of the scrap per Kyo's blueprints and overall memory of the Cub's schematics. There was little problem in the stripping of the Cub; Kyo knew from experience that a Carrion House could strip a ship the size of a mid-bulk transport clean in a little under a day. All they had to do was assemble everything in the correct order. If things continued to go well, Mal and Serenity could be off Whittier within the next two weeks.

Of course the fact that he didn't require to sleep helped to speed along the process. For the past three days he'd been working alone at night on the new shuttle, spending his hours becoming intimately familiar with her workings. Occassionally, River would join him, but she'd be just as wrapped up in her sewing. However tonight was the most crowded the garage had ever been.

"I think we need to shave off another few centimeters on the wing," mused Forge aloud as he examined the fully extended wing that would retract back into the shuttle upon docking.

"No, Daddy, I worked it all out!" came Kaylee's voice. "Losin' any more off the wing'll mean greater wear and tear on the joints."

Forge was unconvinced. "You were born with a gift, daughter--you know machines like no other--but that don't mean you know how it is to fly. Sometimes when you're in that chair you find that what the math says don't always make it so."

"Love," whispered River to Kyo from her spot above him. He smiled, though she couldn't see it physically.

"I know that," said Kaylee petulantly in a very soft voice. "I've pushed Serenity inna doin' things that just ain't proper, but she's done it for me all the same."

"Then shave off more from the wings," said Forge simply, walking away from Kaylee and the suspended appendages. "We can offset with the stabilizers. It'll give her an extra second and a half of turn speed out in space, but it'll burn up more fuel in atmo. I'm thinkin' you'll be needin' her maneuverability more in the black than in the blue."

"That's the hope," muttered Kyo as he mucked with the internal systems.

"I still think we should use those shiny new Nine-D Synchronizers and maybe throw in some Fourty-Four-A boards for the nav com," was Bester's suggestion. "Oh! Oh! And those XMV shrouds for the engines! Man those things'll make even a Gessler Sixty run silent!"

"Bester, how many times do I have to tell you?" asked a slightly irked Forge. "Those things are pointless. Everything runs silent in space."

"But the XMV makes the engine so silent you could stand right next to the unit without hearing a thing!" pushed Bester.

"But if you can't hear the engine, then how'll you know everything's runnin' smooth?" inquired Kaylee. "Y'won't be able to hear the engine tell what's wrong 'fore somethin' happens."

"What's to hear?" wondered Bester with a shrug. "Thing breaks down y'just fix it. It's what we do!"

They went on for quite some time in their inspection of the parts, arguing at practically every one when it came to possible changes. It was Bester who retired to his room first, leaving Kaylee and Forge in the garage. By then they'd completely forgotten about River and Kyo--who were working silently with thread and wires respectively.

"I ain't meanin' to be mean or nothin', but why d'you keep him 'round?" asked Kaylee, staring out the entrance to the garage where Bester had just left.

"I need an assistant, seein' as how my former one found a better job," said Forge in a deadpan reminiscent of Zoe. "'Sides, I need someone to boss 'round since I certainly can't do that with your Momma."

"No," agreed a giggling Kaylee. "Can't ever see you pushin' Momma 'round."

"Bester's not a terrible mechanic, daughter," stated Forge a little more seriously. "He's no genius like yourself, but he's surprisingly competent for one so young. Been teachin' him things--refinin' those skills he's got."

"You--you never taught me nothin'," said Kaylee in a voice that still had lingering traces of old hurt.

"Ain't needed to teach you a thing, daughter mine," was Forge's oblivious--but prideful--reply. "You were born knowin' everythin' there was to know 'bout math 'n' mechanics without any of 'em fancy schoolin'. Weren't a problem you couldn't suss out with those senses what God gave you."

Kyo heard Forge's footfalls as he exited the garage, but much louder was the sound of Kaylee's conflicted and disappointed thoughts.

"But I wasn't born knowin' everythin'," said Kaylee to herself before she too left the garage.

With a sigh, Kyo extracted himself from beneath the deck plate beside River. They shared a look before each resumed their own project in the late night hour.

*****

Laurel was waiting for Forge upon his return, sitting at the kitchen table in the darkened room. He saw her sip at her tea patiently as was her way when she wanted to talk things through with Forge. He never understood the reason for it; he trusted her implicitly with any decision to be made in regards to the house so long as he was free to tinker in the Fryer. Resigned to his fate for the night, Forge undid his apron and toolbelt.

"Yes?" he asked, slinging both over his shoulder while stepping into the kitchen. The oil lamp lit on the table provided the sole illumination in the room, throwing him into shadow.

"Had a chat with that husband of hers," said Laurel evenly. "Seems they're fugitives and that Captain Reynolds don't always run on the right side of things."

"What's legal ain't always right," pointed out Forge as he opened up the refridgeration unit for a bottle.

"All the same, you really think that's the place for our Winnie?" Laurel wanted to know.

"Our daughter's grown up and got herself married, Laurel," responded Forge, dropping into the chair across from her.

"She weren't no grown up when you let her go!" retorted Laurel heatedly. "Y'ain't never treated her like a daughter, zhang-fu. Ain't never showed her nothin' when she'd've taken anythin'!"

Kaylee, who'd trailed her father back from the garage, paused on her way past the kitchen to the stairs that lead to the second floor. Tentatively she pressed herself against the doorframe, seeing only her father's silhouette against the lamp light. It'd been years since she'd eavesdropped on her folks like this--the last being about her attending the Founder's Day fair with the cute son of the grocer--but this was far more important to her.

"You sayin' I ain't loved her?" demanded Forge gruffly, snapping fiery eyes straight at his wife. "Gorrammit Laurel! There ain't ever anythin' I made 'fore or since that I'm proud of more'n our li'l Kaylee!"

"You never treated her so," countered Laurel. "Never once told her you loved her! Never a hug or a kiss on the head! None of that!"

"I showed her!" said a truly offended Forge. "I treated her like a grown-up! I respected her privacy and any decision she made. I always considered her feelings in things when she argued and always took her side 'gainst you. I never told her to eat up or to clean her room. How is that not showing her?"

Laurel sighed and moved to set her tea cup in the nearby sink. "You act like she came out pre-programmed, Forge. That just ain't so. She's a real person with feelings 'n' all and for whatever reason she looked up to you, but all you were ever concerned with was that pile of scrap out back."

"She was just as interested in 'em things too," said Forge defensively. "Her gift--"

"It wasn't about her gift!" Laurel declared, cutting off her husband. "It was 'cause she wanted to spend time with you, but all you could ever do was focus on her gift!" There was an awkward pause where Kaylee didn't know whether to turn away or to continue listening. She'd never heard her parents argue like this, especially when it came to her. Worse it was like she was arguing with her Daddy. All the things she could only say to everyone else like her Momma, Inara, River and Simon was being told right at the man.

"She got married," said Laurel after the pause, returning to her chair. "Don't that concern you none?"

"Are you still goin' on 'bout that?" cried out an exasperated Forge, slapping his leatherlike palm on the flowery table top for emphasis.

"I just want your opinion on the boy 's'all," explained Laurel coolly.

"The fugitive?" queried Forge, rubbing his forehead out of fatigue. At Laurel's nod he gave his own in return. "I don't see an issue with the lad. Kaylee likes him plenty--I can see it clear in her eyes. Seems harmless in his own way, kinda familiar in others. Whatever he's a fugitive for must be a mistake. Wouldn't be the first time the Feds made one."

This time it was Laurel's time to plead exasperatedly. "Don't start, zhang-fu. Please, don't start with this Rebel fei-hua."

"They ain't wrong," said Forge, getting up from the table. "When was the last time the Alliance paid attention to us? Now I--I couldn'ta been with the Browncoats with the need to be with you and Lee, but now..."

"Don't be thinkin' it, Forge," warned Laurel, also rising from the table. "You're not young no more. You ain't the fancy, Core-raised racer what swooped inna Paquin and took me 'long for a ride."

Forge gave a snort and laid a hand on Laurel's shoulder while his other hand fell at her hip. "My memory might be a mite foggy, but I seem to recall a fiery redhead doin' the seducin' 'fore she hitched herself to my hip and ship."

As the warm, fond faces of her parents moved together, Kaylee thought it best if she went to spend time with her beau. She really didn't need to stick around to watch her parents go any further. For the moment it was sweet, but a few minutes later and minus some clothes it would be downright disturbing.

Laurel pulled herself out of their embrace just enough to look into the eyes. She knew Forge was still deadset on joining the Rebels if the offer ever came. At the very least he'd support them the best way he could through his tinkering. Maybe he might even design brand new fighters for them to use. She just didn't want to be dragged along, especially with Kaylee running around with smugglers and fugitives. She wanted their home to be a safe haven for the girl and her extended family--and any grandchildren that might come their way--but in many ways Forge just never grew up.

With a sigh, Laurel steered him out of the kitchen, snuffing out the lamp on the way. Things weren't settled, but Laurel had long learned a dogged approach was required with those Core types like Forge had once been.

*****

Sunday was the national day of rest on Whittier, and that had the tendency to turn Lu-se Cheng into a ghost town. It had nothing much to do with religion, just an arbitrary decision made from folks who complained too much about the working; course, back then they had something to work on. Mal didn't mind it much; the fewer the people, the less his anxiety about staying planetside.

Mal wondered if Inara minded at all as he watched her literally stop and smell the flowers they passed. They were wildflowers that were slowly conquering the concrete and steel laid down as the foundation for the oft unused docks. On a dead day like this one, there weren't many other things to pass for entertainment. Mal'd seen enough pretty petals on Shadow--hell, he'd even picked his fair share for Annie, much to Meg's amusement. Didn't seem like the thing to do with Inara.

"Kyo says they're makin' time on the shuttle," said Mal, breaking the quiet. Off in the distance he spotted someone moving towards the scrapyard. From the rigid posture and the cleanliness of the clothes, Mal pegged it for Simon. Taking in the Doctor's motions, it seemed to Mal he was readying himself for some target practice. "Come next week we might be aimin' to leave this prairie land. Reckon that might please you some; get back to civilization and get on with your--well, what you do."

It was the pause that interested Inara because it was a perfect opportunity for Mal to slip in his favorite adjective for her. She turned from the lovely purple flower she'd been admiring to look him over carefully. Rather than calling him on it, she choose to address her upcoming problem. "I might not be taking on clients for sometime, Mal."

"Ra--really?" asked Mal; his surprise overcoming his automatic swell of happiness at the prospect, much to Inara's amusement. "Why?"

"Trouble in the Guild," Inara told him as she rose smoothly and made her way to stand before him. With the slightest arch of her brow she added, "All of it centering around your ex-wife, might I add."

"Saffron?" groaned Mal, directing his eyes towards Simon's practice. "What's she gone and got herself involved in now? And what's it gotta do with the Guild?"

"That I'm not entirely sure of," answered Inara plainly; her brow furrowed slightly at the quandry. "Kyo investigated her thoughts at my request. I wasn't wrong, Mal; Saffron has Companion training. The issue is that I don't know her mentor, despite the fact that Kyo assures me she trained on Sihnon. And the methods Saffron's applied her training towards go completely against the doctrines of the Guild! I can only conclude that there's a conspiracy or corruption within the Guild."

"And you mean to suss out the root," discerned Mal as he eyed her carefully. Inara had to avert her eyes this time. She couldn't take the concern that filled those steel blue eyes of his. This was something Mal couldn't be involved in. This was strictly Guild business.

"That is the general idea," confirmed Inara with a curt nod. "I'm meeting an old friend here tomorrow. She's been...I don't know whether a victim or merely aware of the conspiracy for sometime. We'll come up with a better plan once we discuss what we know."

"You sure you mightn't want a gun hand--well, handy?" asked Mal, tucking his thumbs into the very gunbelt. He'd made the offer once before, but that had been under false pretenses and they both knew it. This time he was wholly serious, and that frightened Inara just a little. A part of her couldn't shake the rumors that would spread--the further adventures of Inara and her pirate captain. A part of her knew it shouldn't matter, but the Guild was so very strict about things--especially in regards to internal affairs. They had a reputation to keep after all.

Reputation. Rules. Regulations. That always existed as a schism between them. The rigidity of Companion dating guidelines would've prevented a relationship between her and Mal, no matter how close they danced together. The lawlessness of his world was simply jarring to her, though she couldn't deny how refreshing it could be. One of them would have to compromise their way of life to make things work, and yet both loved their way of life with every fiber of their being--much more than any person. It defined them. Made them comfortable.

"Thank you, Mal, but no," said a slightly embarassed Inara. "This is a Guild matter, and it needs to be settled from within the Guild."

"Are you leavin'?" he asked thickly, and it was honestly a possibility that Inara did not wish to consider.

"I..." Inara trailed off uncertainly. "I don't know if it might come to that. I suppose it depends on the seriousness of the conspiracy."

Mal's jaw clenched firmly at the possibility of her leaving, just as things really were starting to work out between them. All he could say was, "The way it is is the way it is, I reckon." And with that he walked back to the Frye household.

*****

Farah's ship came down like a sleek, gleaming dragonfly with its long body and wide wingspan. It set down silently at the main dock, which fell between Lu-se Cheng and the Fryer. The wings folded close to the body before sliding along its back like a shark's fin. Its belly opened up and dropped down a platform for access. With the preparations set, it simply waited for Inara to come as called.

*****

"I'm here," said Farah through the screen; her eyes were firm and there was a smile on her face, but Inara knew something was wrong. That was not the smile one gave to a friend and former classmate. That was a Companion smile given only to clients and rivals. It was a look that spoke volumes through the intuitive Companion training. Farah had been discovered. Their meeting had become a trap.

Fortunately, such a tell was not perceptable to just anyone--only friends. Inara knew she had to play this carefully so she didn't tip the scales in the slightest. Inviting Farah aboard Serenity would be wrong as would Inara bringing Mal--or anyone else--along with her to Farah's ship. This was Guild business and only Guild business. Farah's captors would certainly be aware of the Guild's rigid rules.

"Shall we discuss things now?" inquired Inara pleasantly, hoping to confirm how long she had to come up with a plan.

"Yes," said Farah, who appeared to be resisting the urge to look off screen. "The quicker we discuss things, the sooner we may come up with a plan to save the Guild."

"Very well, I'll see you shortly," said Inara before clicking off the transmission. She looked around her shuttle carefully, trying to decide what would be best to carry along with her. The sleek pistol she had as a side arm would be pointless. Farah's ship would be a Guild-issue Companion craft, which would be outfitted with the latest in firearm detection like the party she attended on Persephone. Inara's only other option would be the vial; retrieved along with the rest of her things from the training house when she decided to stay on Serenity. However that vial would be of no use for Farah--the dosage is enough for one person.

There was movement at the door to her shuttle and Inara whirled around angrily, fully expecting it to be Mal eavesdropping as always. She was surprised to find someone unrecognizable standing there, dressed in a light and comfortable outfit that simultaneously covered the intruder's appearance. Only wavy, dark hair could be seen clearly. That and the bare feet were all Inara had to go on.

"River?" she asked tentatively, recognizing at least the glittering veil to be what the young Reader had been working on during their stay.

"Shouldn't go without a chaperone," declared River solemnly, and Inara then perceived just what River had been doing all this time.

Inara smiled at River and rose to her feet, feeling much more at ease with a Reader at her back. "Then let's not keep the puppet master waiting."

*****

The lift brought Inara and River into the belly of Farah's ship and closed beneath them. Trepidation spread through Inara's belly like cold jello thrown against a wall, but she stomped it down enough to walk forward. Like her own shuttle, the interior of Farah's ship resembled a five-star hotel suite with rich red and gold tapestries, rugs, statues, and all other decorations of wealth. A Dragonfly's crew was modest, and the ship mostly flew by itself. At best they were facing numbers on par with Serenity's crew.

"Quality not quantity," River warned softly from beneath her veil. Inara gave a barely perceptable nod before they moved down the aisle to the reception room. Normally, the reception room doubled as sleeping quarters for Farah, and was thus usually hidden behind thick, maroon curtains with gold embroidery. As they approached the curtains pulled back to reveal Farah and a tall figure in a white trenchcoat and fedora.

The eyes in the man's gaunt face, full of predatorial instincts, fell immediately towards River. A switchblade popped out, which he had concealed in his gloved hands, and he brandished the keen blade at Inara's escort. "And who is she?"

"My apprentice," lied Inara easily, not knowing whether the man had any Companion training, but found it better to play it safe. "Rather than send her back to a training house, I thought it best to keep her close under my own supervision."

"And that would be due to her age, no doubt," Farah caught on quickly, looking to Inara for confirmation.

"Yes," smiled Inara thankfully. "Students are usually taken much younger, but this one had such potential I couldn't let it go to waste. A focused approach would be more beneficial than having her as a part of a class. As this is Guild business I thought it best for her to accompany."

"Well," drawled the man in his high, whiny voice, "lucky her. She'll get the lesson of a lifetime today." He folded up his switchblade and reached for the gold braid that hung down from the ceiling. He gave it a sharp tug to unveil the gauzy, but still opaque curtains from around Farah's bed. The bed itself had been folded up and in its place sat a woman with a tea set before her.

"Mistress," bowed the man before retreating into a shadowed corner.

The woman rose with a natural grace Inara had only seen on River. She was older than any of the women currently in the ship, probably at around her early to mid-forties by Inara's estimation, yet the beauty in her strong, solid face had not seemed to dull. Her lustrious, black hair was done up in the most elaborate style Inara had ever seen, and the clinging, yet voluminous red dress she wore seemed to be made out of liquid itself. There was a splendor about her that Inara felt she could never compete with.

"Miss Inara Serra and...apprentice," said the woman in a highly cultured, yet heavily accented voice. Her almond eyes fell squarely onto River and Inara worried that this unknown threat might be a Reader herself. "My name is Chi-Long."

"And you're the leader of the conspiracy within the Guild?" asked Inara authoritatively.

Chi-Long laughed richly and glided down to stand beside Farah. "There is no conspiracy within the Guild, Miss Serra. Rather the conspiracy is the Guild."

"What?" asked Inara disbelieving, looking straight at Farah for confirmation. The ashamed and fearful turn she made away from Inara spoke volumes.

"You came seeking to stop the unstoppable," chided Chi-Long patronizingly. She slid her manicured fingers through Farah's thick hair in such a show of empty maternal love that the younger woman shivered. "Your allegiance is in the wrong, Miss Serra. Your heart is anchored to an illusion." At Inara's silence full of uncertainty and denial, Chi-Long continuned as she stroked Farah's cheek, "Oh, it appears my reality is too real for Miss Serra. Perhaps the words must come from the friend--the trusted, valued friend."

"Farah?" said Inara in a childlike voice.

"It's true, Inara," admitted Farah who was unable to make eye contact with her friend. "I learned everything when I became Head Priestess of House Madrassa. Our history... Our laws... Our prestige... They made it. They wrote it. We exist to serve their purpose and nothing else." Farah turned her head to look at Inara with sorrowful, vacant eyes. "Our lives are a lie, Inara, a lie writ by them!"

"Who?" demand Inara. Anger was coursing its way through her fuzzy mind. The floor had been dropped, and she had fallen. Betrayal, confusion, denial had disoriented her at first, but now anger was honing her focus. There before her was the cause of her friend's anguish, and the source of poison from within the Guild. If it weren't for River's restraining hand at one of the folds of her dress, Inara thought she might've charged right towards Chi-Long. Not even Mal had incited so much ire.

"The Giang-Hu," said Chi-Long silkily, smiling baitingly at Inara as she moved away from Farah. "The criminal syndicate that stretches from one end of this 'verse to the next, existing primarily within the Core--right under the Alliance's nose. Everyone works for us, Miss Serra; from the lowliest of the low like your Captain Reynolds, to men of the middle like Badger or Fanty and Mingo, to those of higher standings like one Adelai Niska."

"That's not possible," countered Inara firmly. "I've witnessed and experienced the Alliance's capabilities first-hand. They must be aware of you."

"In a way," conceded Chi-Long with a slight bow. "They are aware that something exists, but they are unsure as to who or what. The Guild is responsible for the Giang-Hu's secrecy. The first Chi-Long conceived the Guild and Companions in general to be the eyes, ears, and poisonous fangs of the Giang-Hu; a deadly enemy concealed beneath the most beautiful and regal facade. The Guild is our golden mask so that we may stab the Alliance in the heart with a smile. The rules, the society, everything you hold deal is a complicated ruse to make us blameless. So that one day, when their regime is weak enough, the Giang-Hu may rule everything."

"And the Bride?" inquired Inara angrily, though it showed only in the fire of her eyes and cheeks; she referred to the popularized name of Saffron, once Haymer had sought her capture publically.

"Part of my...private unit," answered Chi-Long with her diplomatic smile so full of false politeness she might've been a doll. "They obey none save me. They act outside the laws of the Guild to be the very talons of the Giang-Hu. They tell me all I wish to know and poison all my enemies. I considered you once, did you know? When you arrived as a young girl I saw all the potential you possessed, but ultimately I decided you were not compatible."

"I consider myself fortunate," said Inara scathingly.

Chi-Long was not offended in the slightest, though her smile shifted into an offensive one without any physical alteration. "I consider myself wrong, Miss Serra. The proof of that is in your survival out in the Rim. Your flight after the ostrication of Nandi was most unexpected and required me to re-examine my original assessment of you. My condolences for your loss, by the way."

"'Loss?'" echoed Farah worriedly that made Inara flinch. She'd revealed the fate of Nandi to none of the Companions she'd encountered after the incident, much to her shame and selfishness.

"You were not the devoted girl I thought you to be," continued Chi-Long before Inara might conjure an answer. "No, you were quite the frightened child. Nandi's frustration at the emptiness of a Companion's life resonated deeply within you, bringing up an epiphany you never thought possible. You examined the road you were on; Head Priestress of House Madrassa within a year, and then a life of solitude as you trained generation after generation of Companions with nothing to show for yourself when you died--and you do fear death, don't you, Inara?"

"You don't know anything!" lied Inara even as her insides quivered under the assault. Chi-Long's observations were dangerously accurate, almost impossibly so. The last person she encountered with such insight without being a Reader was Jubal Early. Inara felt sick at the knowledge that Chi-Long seemed to have watched her for all her life on Sihnon, turning that beautiful and bright memory of her childhood into a murky pool of shadows and eyes.

"I could've given you so much more," lamented Chi-Long over Inara's protest. "It would've been so easy to bait you with promises of true greatness. You might have even found yourself with the mantle of Chi-Long decades from now. Alas..."

That last lament lacked any sort of truth as Chi-Long's eyes glittered menacingly at the white garbed man in the shadows. Though his face was concealed by the brim of his fedora, Inara could feel his perverse grin upon her at the thought of bloodlust.

"I've given you the greatest gift, Inara," said Chi-Long while she glided back towards the cushion. "I've given you the truth. Think of the thousands out there who live in lies. You will not die as one of them."

"She won't die at all," warned River as she moved to intercept the man who had his switchblade out and ready. Inara simultaneously grabbed Farah and dragged her back towards the lift, but five armed guards had emerged from the front of the ship to block them.

"Don't kill them!" barked the man, never taking his cold eyes off of River's obscured ones. "I want the pleasure of this to be mine only."

"Don't dawdle, Blues," warned Chi-Long as she took her seat like this was simply a boring business meeting. "We have a schedule to keep."

"They won't be a problem," smiled Blues superiorly. Under her opaque veil River arched a brow in return to his challenge.

Blues lunged at River with all the speed of a cobra, which River was quite unprepared for. Secrecy demanded that she fight with the veil on, but that meant she was fighting blind. Her psychic skills focused on his mind, thinking that might give her an edge in battle as it always had, but only this time she had run into a brick wall. Blues was a highly skilled individual. He was no Reader himself, but his focus and intent were so finely tuned that River could pick out very little. A myriad of fighting knowledge was crammed into his skull, and he would switch up on the spot, leaving River with very little time to counter or evade.

Finally, Blues had worked his way under River's guard, and his left hand reached around her neck in a vicelike squeeze. Inara had to squeeze Farah's wrist painfully to not cry out River's name worriedly. Blues lifted her off the ground with a surprisng show of strength in his wiry frame.

"You've got some nice moves, little bird," said Blues with a cruel grin. "Too good to fight like that with a mask on. So sing for me, little bird. Sing all your secrets."

"Nice hat," River managed to squeeze out through Blues's painful grip. Blues frowned in confusion before an explosion rocked the ship, forcing him to drop River while he stumbled back. A fist-sized hole had been punctured through the port side hull. A corresponding hole had found its way through the top of Blues's fedora, just barely missing his head.

Inara took the opportunity to use her limited Companion training to disarm the nearest guard. She then turned the assault rifle upon the remaining guards, blasting open a path to the lift that River immediately made for. With a snarl, Blues regained his composure and readied his knife by gripping its blade. He chucked it with unerring accuracy towards Inara, but Farah had chosen that moment to turn into the lift. The blade sunk into Farah's neck, just at the base of her skull, and she fell limply into the shocked arms of Inara.

Blues reached inside his coat pocket for his silver-plated pistol and squeezed off shots wildly. River slammed her hand on the controls and the lift descended rapidly to the open air of Whittier as bullets ricocheted around them.

Blues was about to run after them when Chi-Long's voice rang out loudly, "No! We did not come prepared for a direct confrontation. It would appear that I have again underestimated Miss Serra's resolve and quick-thinking. There are other ways to silence her, and we've employed them with...the Bride. The reason she still breathes in spite of her betrayal is the same reason we shall allow Miss Serra to live; they lack any evidence to expose us and that makes us safe. For the moment we have a schedule to keep, Blues. Let us keep to it."

Blues's lip curled in disappointment as he holstered his piece. He picked up his irrepairable hat on his way to the com unit. "Take us off, and patch the hole while you're at it." A section of the curved wall where the bullet hole was slammed shut as the Dragonfly shuddered during takeoff.

*****

Kyo and Mal were waiting for them the moment the lift dropped down. Kyo had his Black Moon P.F.S.R. 90 sniper rifle set between his legs while his Peacemaker was out and aimed straight into the belly of the Dragonfly. Mal's hands were otherwise occupied with edging the Mule in a proper position for the women to jump into. River, Inara and Farah's body tumbled into the back bench of the Mule and Mal gunned the throttle immediately. River picked up the discarded assault rifle Inara had used and aimed it along with Kyo's Peacemaker at the Dragonfly.

They had nothing to fear as the ship took off moments later, heading straight off towards the black. It was a passenger transport, and like Serenity it had no armaments. River pulled off her veil and breathed out a sigh of relief. Kyo's eyes slid down from the sky to watch Inara cradle the dead body of Farah against her; the silver-plated, heavily engraved switchblade gleaming in the sunlight.

*****

"She felt no pain," said Simon, who had once again been charged with the duty of a coroner. Farah's body was laid out on the operating chair; her once rich, toffee skin robbed of its living glow, and her make-up washed clean. He turned his eyes to look over the assembled crew of Mal, Zoe, Kyo and River. "I'm not sure if that'll mean anything to Inara."

"She felt pain," contradicted River from her perch on the infirmary's bench. Her eyes were unfocused as they stared through Farah. "She felt noting but pain for so long. Now she feels nothing."

"River," began Simon worriedly.

"Has Inara mentioned what she wants done?" inquired Zoe pragmatically, using her businesslike tone to override the uncomfortable heaviness brought by River's insight. "Do we bury her here? Is there some place she'd prefer?"

"We got time for a burial?" asked Kyo seriously. "Whoever they were, they were apart of the Guild. That's some serious clout that we don't got."

"'Nara ain't in no position to be makin' a decision," said Mal tensely; his eyes drifting over to where her shuttle was. River had been reluctant to divulge everything that had transpired, but whatever happened within that ship had turned Inara over in all sorts of ways. Kaylee'd been comforting her once they managed to pry Farah's body away. Making the decision for Inara, Mal turned his eyes back to River. "Said she was a classmate of 'Nara's?"

River nodded, already knowing what Mal planned.

Turning to Kyo, Mal issued his order, "Set course for Ambrosia. Cassandra was a classmate of theirs too. I figure if any place, Farah should be laid to rest by friends. There's always the Heart of Gold, but I ain't sure if Inara's ready for a trip back."

"What about Jayne and Hex?" said Zoe reasonably. "Ambrosia's pretty far out from Three Hills, not like Whittier. If there's trouble..."

"They would've called," was Mal's firm reply. "No need to ruin Jayne's reunion for this one, but I hate to break it to Kaylee that we might cut this visit short."

"I'll do it," said Simon as he tossed his gloves away. "I-I'll--ah--go speak with her about it, and then we'll--um--inform her folks."

At Mal's nod, Simon left the infirmary for Inara's shuttle. Mal then turned back to Kyo. "Our new shuttle ready?"

"She's assembled," shrugged Kyo hesitantly. "Still got some parts to install and systems to check, but it ain't nothin' we can't do at another port, or hell, while we're in space."

"I'll get Bester to help load it," declared River before she slipped out as well.

Silence reigned over the three Browncoats with their friendship forged by war. A whole manner of unseemly ideas were running through their heads, but neither wanted to voice them. Times like that Mal found himself wishing Jayne were here. He'd speak up without the slightest hesitation at being improper.

Kyo's movement towards the tray beside the chair sparked the need for conversation.

"This can be bad, sir," advised Zoe warily. "We've already got two fugitives on board from the Feds. The last thing we need is for this conspiracy to make Inara one too."

"I know it, Zoe," said Mal with the laugh of a desperate man. "Believe me, I know it. Havin' the two most powerful organizations in the 'verse breathin' down our necks is a situation I don't wanna be caught in the middle of, but it ain't like we could turn 'Nara away anymore'n we could abandon Simon and River."

"If they frame this on Inara," mused Kyo, brandishing the switchblade under the overhead light of the infirmary, "it's possible she'll lose her status as a Companion. That means any training house no longer becomes a sanctuary for us. That means Inara won't work. That means we ain't got access to certain places no more. That means she ain't crew."

"And just what're you sayin'?" demanded Mal, stepping up into the pilot's face.

"Just sayin' how it is, Mal," replied Kyo in his role of devil's advocate. "Simon and River pull their weight, but what's Inara gonna do? Without her Companion status, what is she out here?"

"That's for 'Nara to decide," said Mal firmly, effectively ending the discussion with Kyo and Zoe. Both Kyo and Zoe raised their brow slightly at Mal's dealing with Inara as opposed to his dealing with Simon in the past. They shared a significant look, which Mal pointedly ignored on his way out the infirmary. "You got your job to do, Kyo. I suggest you get that course set. Zoe, go on and help River. I'll check in with 'Nara."

*****

"Oh, I wish you didn't have to leave so soon," sighed Laurel as she embraced her daughter on the ramp of Serenity. "I hardly got myself any chance to catch up with you over tea like we used to. You were spendin' all that time tinkerin' with your Daddy over that shuttle--"

"I wish we could've finished her up here," lamented Forge as he stared directly at it. The new shuttle was more angular than Inara's shuttle; it was also sleeker and covered in the very noticable sparkling hull of the Earth vessel Hope. His convenient eye contact with the shuttle prevented him from seeing the death glare Laurel was shooting him.

"It's all right, Momma," smiled Kaylee knowingly. "We caught up just fine. We'll be 'round for more visits, I promise. I'm sure Simon wants more opportunities to feel out of place."

Simon blushed slightly at his wife's teasing and began to shuffle uncomfortably under the giggles of both Frye women. Forge's eyes drifted down to the young man at that moment.

"You get used to it after a while," he offered gruffly as the only means of encouragement. In fact, Simon noted it was the only time Forge had ever spoken to him, and found himself even more off footed.

Bester took that moment to walk up beside Forge and caught Simon's proximity to Kaylee. Before he could blurt out something dumb, which was Kaylee's fear, Forge turned to head back to the house.

"C'mon, Bester," he ordered to his assistant. "We need to reorganize the inventory after this stay."

Bester frowned as he continued to look between Kaylee and Simon. There was a pride to it that made him want to cry out indignantly at the union. He found it hard to believe Kaylee married someone like Simon as opposed to a mechanic like himself. It was the principle of the thing. But before Bester could say anything, Forge repeated his name more firmly. He had no recourse but to follow along lamely.

Kaylee felt her body sag in relief. They'd managed to go through the month and more without Simon ever fully learning the story of how Kaylee came to be on Serenity. As Kaylee watched her father walk off with Bester, she swore she caught a slight smile on his profile, but it was gone before she could get a closer look.

"I promise, Momma," reiterated Kaylee, returning her attention to Laurel. "We'll come back to visit more."

"See that you do," lectured Laurel sternly, now staring over Kaylee's shoulder to Simon. "And it'd better not be when you've got yourselves little ones and expect us to mind them!"

"Mom!" shrieked a scandalized Kaylee. Giving her mother parting glance, Kaylee began to shoo a thoroughly frightened Simon into Serenity. Once the ramp was closed, Laurel allowed a broad smile to cross her face. Her daughter was such an easy mark.

*****

Mal paused at the opening to Inara's shuttle. He could count the number of times he knocked on just a finger, but decided this occassion warranted it. Even if she did turn him away, he'd just barge in anyway. There were things that needed discussing. Hearing no answer either way after his sharp rap, Mal decided barging in was the best option after all.

The shuttle was dark, though the rich fabric that lined it caught enough of the light from the cargo bay to dimly illuminate the interior. From what Mal could see the shuttle was a wreck. It looked like Jayne had come through sniffing for gold. Inara was on the edge of her bed, hunched over with her back towards him. There was a quality in the air--almost like a smell--that told Mal she'd been bawling her eyes out.

"I--ah--I gave word to Kyo," said Mal softly, wincing at how loud his voice sounded in the shuttle; it seemed too loud for an occassion like this. "He's--we've--set course for Ambrosia. Figured that--ah--you and Cassandra might wanna... What I mean to say is..."

Inara rose from the bed and walked over to Mal. In the darkness of the shuttle he couldn't make out the features on her face; whether she was still sad, mad, or grateful. The mystery of it all put him on edge and backed him against the wall. Inara briefly crossed into the light spilling in from the cargo bay, but because of her hair he still couldn't see her face. She stopped just in front of him, and for a moment Mal wondered if he might get a slap for his troubles. What he didn't expect was for Inara to collapse against him. There wasn't a sob or a cry, she just collapsed against Mal in an embrace and he could do nothing but support her. They fell to the ground with Mal's arms around her, gently working his fingers through her hair.

"'Nara..."

*****

Kyo was up on the bridge of Serenity, still working over the switchblade in his hands. There were some objects that were so important they contained a residual memory--an imprint. One day, when they were long dead, Serenity would undoubtably be such an object. The knife was special, and Kyo could still get glimpses of memories soaked into the blade that no water could wash away.

"Shouldn't play with knives," warned River from the stairs. Kyo clicked the blade shut, but otherwise kept toying with it.

"That was close," said Kyo, ignoring the underlying uncomfortableness that River felt just by being in proximety of the knife. "You didn't tell me you couldn't see under that veil. You didn't tell me I'd have to target him by triangulating his position through the eyes of three seperate people. You also didn't tell me that he had you by your throat."

"You didn't miss," said River, slipping up behind him. "I trust you."

"Well thanks for that," smiled Kyo, dropping the knife onto the console so that he could lay his hands on her arms. "He was good, wasn't he? There was something about him...his face...something familiar..."

"Doesn't matter," River told him, burying her face against his neck. "We got away. We're still flying."

"We are and we did," agreed Kyo, even though something still didn't sit right with him about the knife and man it belonged to.

*****

Blues burst through a set of double doors to enter the conference room. Men of all shape and variety were assembled in the smoke-filled room, which did nothing for the exquisite oil paintings that hung upon the walls. Blues took a moment to compose himself and readjust his new hat as all eyes turned upon him. A shorter, balding old man with a kind face full of evil approached him. Blues returned the smile as only evil could.

"Mr. Niska, my employer sends you the fondest thanks for allowing us to use your new establishment for this meeting," said Blues in a gentle voice as he shook Niska's hand.

"Nonsense, my friend, I consider it to be a great honor to receive such a request," returned a truly flattered Niska in his lilting, accented voice.

"You'll be well compensated all the same, Mr. Niska," promised Blues. "How's the wife?"

"She is well," beamed Niska. His countenance darkened somewhat as he leaned in to whisper at Blues. "She is talking of another family dinner. More cousins and with the talking. I only hope my bodyguard returns soon from the vacation. I am having the feeling that I'll require his--how do you say--talent."

"Jody is on vacation?" repeated Blues in surprise. "Well, having known the man's work, I can say he'll definetely enjoy the work you've lined up for him upon his return."

"Yes, I am thinking the same!" exclaimed Niska pleasantly, even clapping his hands together. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to your meeting."

With a final nod of the head in farewell, Blues allowed Adelai Niska to slip out of the conference room. Blues returned his attention to the assembled men before him, each familiar and wearing the article of clothing that had defined them all at one point. Their current shabbiness was certainly adequate for their new title as well.

"Apologies, gentlemen, for being late," said Blues serenely, strutting towards the head of the table. "There were delays in a previous meeting."

"This had better be good, Jack," barked the loud, overbearing voice of Monty Reynolds from the chair nearest to him. "Fellow Browncoat or no, we got ourselves a war to be fighting!"

"I'm aware of that, Monty," smiled Blues dangerously. "That's why this meeting's in session. As of late you gentlemen have been getting your supplies from the middle men, and until recently that's been enough. But with the pressure the Alliance's been giving you, my employer's decided it might be best if you get supplies direct from the Giang-Hu."

A series of murmurs errupted from the assembled Rebel leaders and former Browncoats. Monty's voice rang loudest of all, "And what would be the discount we're gettin' from this fine gesture?"

"Monty, Monty," chuckled Blues, leaning in close to the massive bear of a man without any fear. "My employer is your benefactor and has no love for the Alliance. This is free, of course. My employer has every confidence that you'll win this time."

Monty stroked his thickening soup catcher as he bore holes into Blues's eyes. "That so, ain't it?"

"That's right," nodded Blues amicably. "We're just like you, Monty. We believe the Alliance is wrong for what it's done on Miranda, and what's done since the war. All we want is what you want; freedom, with the added spice of revenge."

"All right," shrugged Monty, receeding into the shadows of the conference room. "Tell us what you've got planned."

*****

The ceremony was simple. The crew of Serenity and the Companions at the training house were merely support to the two women standing before the marker. Inara could've dug out an image of Farah from their latest communications, but that wouldn't have been an approriate image for them to use; not in Inara's eyes. Fortunately Cassandra had a capture from when they were all Companions in training--far before Farah became Head Priestess and learned the horrors of what it truly meant to be a Companion.

Inara wanted to scream at all the Companions in training, and at Cassandra in particular. She wanted to tell them about the lie they were leading and the hollowness of its creation. But what good would come of it? What purpose would it serve to tell them that they were nothing but whores? She'd faced the ridicule before, from those without the same pigtail pulling, flirting tone that Mal generally carried Despite that she could always look back on the Guild's history and know that they were usually either uninformed or simply jealous. Now... Now...

After their good-byes, Inara returned to the crew. Cassandra had invited her to stay, but Inara had begged that off in saying that Mal needed to pick up some of their crew. The last thing she wanted was to be surrounded by anything related to the Guild, and she really didn't want to explain this all to Cassandra.

"'Nara if you need to be stayin'--"

"No, Mal," said Inara quickly in an overly controlled voice. "No. Cassandra informed me that the Guild has rescinded my Companion registration, therefore I'm no longer a member of the Guild. Other than that, I'm...fine."

"You oughta be workin' on that tellin' men what they want to hear thing," Mal advised her softly with that gentle smile of his that took the sting out of most of the harsh words he spoke. He took a step towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "'Nara, you look like your world done came and crashed 'round you. Believe me, I know that look. Seen it in myself everyday after the end of the war."

"You're right," admitted Inara, "but what I need isn't--isn't here."

"We'll take you anywhere you need, 'Nara," promised Mal solemnly.

"I...I'm where I need to be," Inara told him with the first glimmer of a smile in recent days. It became fonder as she looked at the crew and then at Serenity. "I'm home."

"Welcome home, then," grinned Mal as he proffered his arm to her. She took it gracefully and allowed herself to be led into Serenity as the crew closed ranks around them. And it was true. Someday she'd have to confront the fact that she had no idea what she was going to do now that she wasn't a Companion, but that day was not today. For now she just needed the familiarity of those she considered to be friends, family and more. She needed to heal, just as Mal had done all those years ago. She needed her own serenity.

------

Author's Notes, Justifications, and...well...Excuses:

Well I'm back! And still in time for sweeps...I think... Gonna take me a while to get back into the swing of writing regular prose, as opposed to screenplays or essays, so bear with me.

So this was long planned and finally executed. My own little twisted version of the Guild and the introduction of the Giang-Hu. Though from wuxia flicks the Giang-Hu represented the lifestyle of those highly skilled martial arts masters and their struggle, I felt it was an apt name for a shadowy, Illuminati-ish society to rival Blue Sun. They are the yakuza, triads and mafia all rolled into one. The absence of such a criminal syndicate in Firefly struck me as odd. Not so much on the Rim--I expected it'd be more frontiers and roaming bandits--but in the Core, especially in "Safe" where Gabriel Tam makes reference to a "blackout" area. There had to be something, and my Giang-Hu is it.

For the purpose of my fic, imagine Chi-Long (Red Dragon) as being played by Michelle Yeoh (yet another reason I chose Giang-Hu as the name), and Blues being played by Billy Drago. I specifically wrote Blues being dressed up in a white suit, trenchcoat and hat to match the clothes Drago wears as Frank Nitti in The Untouchables. Bar none, Billy Drago is one of my favorite villain actors. Had Firefly last long enough, I would've hoped for a guest appearance by him.

I'm a dedicated Mal/Inara shipper and my only conclusion as to why there's never been a relationship is their occupations. The Guild is obviously very strict when it comes to rules--they even have rules about dating--while Mal's side of things is completely lawless. For them to come together I needed a catalyst to bring one person to the other's level. I can't yank Mal away from his life of crime (because that just wouldn't make sense), but I can turn the Guild into something poisonous. So now Inara, like Mal during the Battle of Serenity Valley, has lost everything that she has believed in. Now they've got something to connect each other and no barricade to block them. Now I can finally work freely on the Mal/Inara relationship.

Yes... Inara's vial from "Serenity" makes an appearance. What it is, even I don't know (though I do have thoughts), which is why I kept its mention brief.

Jayne and Hex's story comes next and takes place concurrently with this one. Fear not, Jayne has not left Serenity. Although I'm sure some of you must wonder what adventure Jayne got into for a whole month without checking in with the crew. I will say it's no picnic for him neither.

Kaylee's family I tried to make in line with Whedon's style. No one has an ideal family, no matter how sweet they seem. Even Willow's family has issues...not the least being her mother trying to burn her at the stake, albeit that comes at the prodding of ghost children/whatever... It's not said what occupation Kaylee's father has. I didn't want to make him a mechanic like Kaylee, because then the question would become why some captain didn't scoop her up sooner? I made him a scrapyard owner and part-time tinkerer. Predominantly, however, Forge is a retired shuttle racer (an occupation last referred to in my episode "The Race"). There's more to his history though, but we won't get into that now.

If you think he takes his name from the X-Men/X-Factor character Forge...you're WRONG! Well...partially. His primary reference is Doohan from Cowboy Bebop, complete with an assistant in the shape of Bester. Doohan himself is a reference to James Doohan who played Scotty on Star Trek. Therefore the name Forge is a refernece to Geordi LaForge from The Next Generation.

I'm sure I misled some of you with my previous Author's Notes...and I offer no apologies for it, haha. For those of you expecting a knockdown, dragout between Simon and Bester...turn your eyes to another story. I didn't want it to become one of those trite love triangle stories, and the focus on this episode was primarily Inara anyway (plus, I've tortured Simon enough and I wanted to give him a break for the time being). Also, there's no reason that Kaylee has to be completely truthful with everything in her life. Few people ever are. And Bester himself isn't looking for a relationship or anything. You know Kaylee and Bester were having a one-time (technically it wasn't night, so I can't really call it a one-night stand) thing. However, I thought it would've provided some great comic relief...mostly at Bester's expense...

So that's it... With Giang-Hu and Chi-Long, and Mr. Khan and Blue Sun, along with the Rebels and Eden-Two I believe I've got all my players on the board. Blurry lines and hidden intentions aplenty with our poor crew caught in the middle.