Disclaimer: characters and 'verse not mine, Joss's

Reading

Inara stood on the catwalk and leaned her elbows casually on the railing, watching the energetic ballgame taking place below. She turned at the sound of footsteps and smiled.

“Hey you,” she greeted River, who was wrapped in that long off-white duster which in Inara’s opinion should have been in the trash way before now. It wasn’t the only such article of clothing in River’s wardrobe, either. Much of what she wore had been scrounged up as cheaply as possible when she and Simon first arrived; he, in his stuffy vests and white shirts, she, in her square box and pale skin. Inara made a mental note to do something about the attire issue, now that River was going out on jobs and earning a cut of the take.

“Your hair looks lovely,” Inara offered, when River stopped beside her and imitated her posture, elbows on the rail, chin cupped in her hands. Inara pulled in her smile to hide it when she saw the younger woman glance down and move her lower limbs to copy Inara’s also; knees slightly bent, legs aligned, no crossing of the ankles.

“Thank you. The scented shampoo had the desired effect.” River responded gravely.

Inara lifted her brows, inquisitively. She hadn’t known there’d been a ‘desired effect’, other than to look and smell feminine. “Was there something specific you wanted it to do, sweetie?”

River nodded, her eyes distracted by the ball in the air beneath her. As she traced its movement she lost the studied pose she’d been in and fell into a familiar Riveresque one, holding the railing with both hands, her head and upper body weaving side to side in rhythm with the game. Or -- actually, that was so while Jayne had the ball. But after he passed it, Inara didn't think River's gaze followed it. Instead, they followed Jayne. In light of past activities, this might once have worried Inara. But she reminded herself of another set of past activities and told herself it was nothing to worry about. River hadn't answered her question, so she assumed she’d been forgotten, and turned to move away.

“I didn’t forget you,” River murmured, and Inara swiveled back, now hiding a frown. River was so much better without Miranda’s secrets locked in her head, but she could still set Inara on edge. If there was one thing the courtesan guarded, it was her privacy, and with River around, that always seemed in jeopardy. She didn’t think the girl read minds on purpose, but there was no denying that it happened. Was happening now, she judged unhappily, as River’s shoulders slumped further and further and her head began to curl into her chest.

“Not on purpose. And I really do like to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“All of it. All the things you think.” When she raised her head, her eyes were a little desperate. “I don’t want to hear thoughts. They’re - most of them aren’t whole, just pieces, and they’re real, some of them, and some of them aren’t. Some match the words people say and some don’t, and I can’t tell which ones to value and which to throw away, of the thoughts or of the words . . .”

Inara sighed slightly, and interrupted the River babble to lean over and cover her hand with her own. Apparently her intention of doing so hadn’t been something River read, because the girl jumped before stilling herself with obvious effort.

“I’m certain it must be confusing. People tell so many lies, to others and to themselves. We act one way, talk another, think yet another, and underneath all of that there are usually truths we know but never act on, talk about, or consider.” She reviewed what she’d said, especially in relation to a certain obstinate captain, and shook her head in newfound admiration. “If you hear bits and pieces of all of that from all of us, I don’t know how you stay sane, River.”

She flinched the moment the words were out, which of course River saw. Inara really felt off her stride, lately. It wasn’t like her to be so benzhuo*.

“I didn’t,” River whispered. “I didn’t stay sane.” Inara meant to rush in with reassuring words, but the pure sorrow on the pale face somehow shut her words off. All she could do was squeeze the hand she held. River’s eyes were liquid mysteries, for a moment, before she tilted her head and a smile ghosted in to frighten off the melancholy.

“But I’m better than I was. Not everyone could do it, get better.”

“I absolutely believe that,” Inara affirmed.

The spectral smile acquired a smugness. “Most could not.”

Inara nodded.

“The top three percent of any medical school on any world could not.”

“Um, that’s correct. River –“

“The doctors who cut up her – my – brainpan could not. The upper-level government personnel who approved the project could not! The b-blue hands could not!”

Inara stepped in to what looked to become a full-blown rant and wrapped an arm around the thin shoulders. “No, sweetie, they couldn’t, that’s why they thought they needed you.”

In the loop of Inara’s arm, River turned to stare down over the catwalk again, but Inara knew she was seeing more than just Mal’s little butt-wagging victory dance. Distracted herself for a moment, she blinked back in time to hear River whisper, “Who needs me now?”

Well, it seemed she couldn’t say anything right today. Asserting that the crew of this boat needed her, while Inara believed it was true, seemed like too pat an answer. Willing to concede defeat in the ‘cheer-up River’ arena, Inara withdrew her arm after attempting a comforting squeeze. The players were exiting the bay, and the noise level was dropping. She was two steps down the catwalk when she heard River’s undertone, “I know who needs me.”

Once more, Inara turned around, and was a little horrified to see that River’s eyes were now definitely focused, with intent, on the only person left down below; Jayne.

River shook her head. “No. Jayne is self-sufficient,” she said slowly, without looking at Inara, “he doesn’t need me yet. But he gives me ideas.”

*benzhou; clumsy