Disclaimer: all things Firefly/Serenity are the property of Whedon et al. I'm not making any money off this, just playing with the toys. A/N: this is the first time I've done a sequel using two different prompts. That's why I said that this is a "kind of sequel".

The man removed his eyeglasses and rubbed his tired eyes. Sighing deeply, he placed the lenses back on and reviewed the document on the table before him once more. Translating from Greek was not his expertise, never had been, but it was a challenge he was determined to succeed at. If the other Brothers could do it then so could he.

The storm had started shortly after the final prayers, with the rain pelting the Abbey for quite a number of hours before the knock pounded on the front door. Rising stiffly, the Brother opened it to find an older man, drenched and looking miserable before him.

Quickly shuffling the stranger inside, the Brother took him to a guest room then to the kitchen and finally on a quick tour. The Brother talked about nothing of consequence, mostly the weather and some little historical bits about the Abbey. It also filled the silent void as the strange man said very little.

Even in the dim light of the Abbey, the Brother noted how this strange man took in his surroundings. He observed rather than looked. Most visitors focussed on bits and pieces, statues and paintings and the like, but this man took in the whole. His expression didn’t change once. It was as though he was cataloguing what he saw. He’d seen it before, when he’d been a novice. That hadn’t gone well for anyone.

Returning to the guest room, he excused himself and let the man get some rest. The stranger was tired, could see it in his face and his body. He was a man with a burden that had become too heavy to carry alone.

Resuming his position back at the desk near the entrance, he pulled a cloth from his pocket and wiped his glasses. “Please, God,” he whispered in prayer, “let this man find the salvation he seeks.” Lifting his stylus, he resumed his Greek translation.

With the new day, the strange man felt himself drawn to the music in the courtyard. The Brother from the night before smiled widely from across the yard and gestured for him to come over. “Excellent voices, wouldn’t you agree?”

The stranger nodded, hastily wiping the tears from his cheeks with his sleeve.

“My name is David.” He extended his hand. “Did you sleep well?”

The other man nodded and grasped David’s hand. He hesitated before giving his name.

David smiled even wider. “Wonderful name, Book.” He pulled his Bible from his jacket pocket. “Just like the Good Book.” He chuckled. “Sorry. That was a terrible joke.” He regarded Book for some time as the older man continued to watch the chorus of men. He leaned in a little. “Do you sing?”

“No.”

David laughed. “Me neither, but I can certainly appreciate it.” He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed contently.

Both men stood, letting the music fill them until the choir was finished.

“Book,” David began, his hand resting on Book’s shoulder, “our doors are open to you, should you need us.”

Book stared down at the shorter man, his eye distrustful.

“You’ve nothing to fear here. We are a peaceful order, giving help to those who need it.” He held Book’s gaze. “Even if they don’t ask for it outright.”

The visitor’s face softened and his shoulders slumped. “I think.” He regarded his hands, twisting a little then looked up to the coloured windows and sun beginning to shine into the courtyard. “I think I need to get away from the world for a spell.”

David began walking, gently guiding Book with him. “Then let me introduce you to something unworldly.”

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