Chapter Three

Several days after their stop at Dawes’ cafe, Mal stepped onto the bridge. “How’re we doin’, Wash?” he asked.

“We have about 52 hours till Bedford. The fuel is holding,” the pilot reported. “We should get there with a bit to spare. Just a bit though. We have to hope that their refueling station actually has some fuel. And that we do the job without any incident and that we actually get paid for it.”

“Hao le ma,” Mal replied, silencing the litany of problems. The captain knew it was a dark day indeed when Hoban Washburne was worrying himself over every possible hitch. He didn’t know if the change in the pilot was due more to the grave circumstances in the ‘verse or Wash’s fears about taking care of a child. He didn’t much care right now either.

Serenity’s instrument panel beeped, and a communication from a nearby moon was transmitted to the bridge.

“Is that the Serenity? Captain Reynolds, you here?” asked the voice on the other end.

Mal and Wash exchanged irritated groans. The person contacting them was a fellow named Richard Loster. The crew had dealt with him twice before, and both times felt as if they desperately needed a shower afterwards. Even Jayne. Reynolds and crew often found themselves dealing with unsavory characters, but Loster made even Badger look like a knight.

“Well hey there, Loster,” Mal replied.

“So it is you! You stoppin’ down on my moon?” Loster’s voice was casual and breezy, as if the man had not a care in the ‘verse and was immune to its struggles.

“No. We got a job elsewhere – just passin’ through.” And then, against his better judgment but because he was one paycheck away from desperate, “You got any work for us when we’re done?”

“I don’t have a job for you. But I would like to propose a trade.”

“A trade?” Mal asked, a feeling of trepidation welling up.

“A trade. I got plenty of provisions. How’d you like a whole crate of genuine, A-grade food stuffs? Fully intact and sealed.”

A crate could feel the entire crew more than adequately for five or six months. It was a tempting offer.

“What do you want in return?” Mal asked.

“You still got that companion on board? I gotta spend a few days with a woman.”

Mal’s face darkened, and Wash’s frown deepened.

“No,” Mal replied flatly. “No companion on this ship.”

“No? Too bad. Down on this moon, there aren’t any women worth a second glance. They’re all middle-aged shrews or lesbians – or both. There were a few whores here but the only one left is so diseased, no one will touch her. I haven’t gotten any p___ for a long time,” he said, using a degrading term.

And then Loster continued, “Hey, what about that cute mechanic of yours? Or – or – hey, you still got that hot warrior woman?”

“This discussion ends now, Loster,” Mal stated, his voice deadly serious and brimming with fury. He held Wash’s shoulder back, as if to keep the pilot from leaping up and attacking the view screen –Mal himself wanted to assault the unsightly image of Loster too.

“Oh, come on, Mal,” Loster continued. “Okay, tell you what. I’m offering you half a crate – half of an entire gorram crate – for just one night with the cute mechanic or with Zoe. That is your warrior hottie’s name, right? That’s one incredible offer. Who else in these times would offer that just for some sex?? Of course I do have specific ideas about what I want to do during my night with one of your girls and ---“

“Loster!” Mal interrupted. “They ain’t ‘my girls’. My crew ain’t available for sale or for barter. That’s final.”

“Half a crate, Mal!” Loster bellowed.

The Captain turned the viewer off, terminating the conversation. He and Wash both cursed loudly in Chinese, only ceasing when they heard Zoe’s voice in the background.

“Don’t know if he’d be so interested in me if he saw all this,” Zoe deadpanned, patting her protrusion.

“Did you hear everything that chusheng xai-jiao de xiang huo said?” Mal asked.

“More or less. You handled it well, sir.”

“How is it that most of the ‘verse is starving to death but this hundan is still rich?” Wash groaned.

“’Cause life ain’t fair and the good guys never win,” Mal concluded.

*** Later, the crew sat around the dinner table as per their custom. Mal remembered that during one of their dealings with Loster years ago, the man had had occasion to be on board the ship during dinner. Loster had remarked upon the crew’s habit of eating together, astounded that a crew would faithfully sit down to a meal together every day.

“How come there ain’t never a ship fulla hot sexy women who want to trade food to have sex with me?” Jayne grumbled.

“Should any of us even dignify that with a response?” Wash remarked as he took a swig of water.

River sat next to Kaylee and spoke, “She is not an it. She doesn’t want barter like this.”

Kaylee sat with her arms folded in front of her chest. She wished that she hadn’t been monitoring the bridge communications today. She wished she could shake the feeling of dirtiness.

Mal looked at Kaylee. “I’m fixin’ to forget that I ever spoke to Loster today. Suggest you all might wanna do the same,” he said.

“An excellent suggestion, Captain,” the Shepherd responded. Despite having chewed thoughtfully at a slow pace, he was now finished with his stack of three nutrition crackers – which meant that he was done with food until mid-day tomorrow. Dinner for the crew was now more of a ritual than anything since it didn’t take a person long to consume their small rations.

After dinner, the crew played a brief basketball game. The game was a restrained one – no one had much energy for an all-out brisk game and everyone wanted to avoid the possibility of crashing into Zoe. Mal found the game useful for letting off steam though.

*** “What happened today is bothering you. I can tell. Er – well, I suppose it’s pretty obvious. That’s one thing I love about you. I can always tell what’s on your mind,” Simon stammered to Kaylee. They found themselves inside his bunk after the basketball game.

Simon’s hair was damp and he knew tomorrow he’d have a bruise on his thigh where Jayne collided with him in avid pursuit of the ball. It was the only collision in the otherwise genteel game and Simon understood that it wasn’t accidental. The wound on his leg was not Simon’s immediate concern though. The downcast eyes of the woman he found himself in love with provided a greater source of concern.

“Shouldn’t I feel guilty?” Kaylee asked, her gaze in the direction of the floor as she plopped herself down on the bed.

“Kaylee,” Simon began, softly.

“We could sure use those provisions. There’s a whole passel of things that can go wrong with our job on Bedford. What if we don’t get paid? Or if ---“

“Then we will cross that space dock when we come to it,” Simon cut her off. “The Captain always comes up with a plan.”

“I dunno. We always get a whole lotta ugly on our jobs and we can’t always make it right, ‘specially not lately. What if it ever comes down to that, to Loster’s proposition? We got eight people on Serenity to feed, with a ninth one on the way.”

Simon shook his head. “It won’t ever come down to that. Forget that hundan ever made his offer!”

Kaylee perked up slightly at the sound of Simon cursing. But then her thoughts resumed their course. “It ain’t easy keepin’ a baby alive in the black, though, and we got precious little supplies for Zoe and Wash’s baby. My folks lost one a theirs. I’s barely old enough to remember it.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “Really? I had no idea that you had a sibling who passed away.”

Kaylee shrugged. “It’s real common in the black. Every family’s lost a baby or two. You don’t got enough food or medicine, it gets really hard to keep the lil’ ones alive.”

Kaylee went on to describe her sparse memories of her younger brother, who had died three days after his birth. Kaylee had been four at the time and had vague sensations of her mother’s depression, her father’s frustration, and her own constant thirst at the time due to the long water shortage. She remembered brief images of the funeral, holding on to her older brother’s hand and wishing their mother would stop crying. As she spoke, Simon held her hand and listened.

“Guess I gotta keep all this in perspective,” Kaylee added. “There’s always been rough times in the ‘verse. We’ll pull through.”

“Yes,” Simon agreed, with a bit too much enthusiasm in his voice. “And no matter what happens, we are not ever going to allow you to have to consider Loster’s proposition. We’ll eat our shoes before we take food from that hundan!

Simon turned his head and looked at Kaylee’s eyes, which still glistened with sorrow. “You’re still upset. I’m sorry – was it wrong of me to ask you to talk about your brother?” Simon asked gently.

“No. That ain’t it. It’s just…about Loster’s offer. I’s thinking…is this what Inara does?” Kaylee asked, her voice cracking a bit. “Ain’t it a bit like it?”

Simon considered her words. He always wanted to tread lightly on the subject of Kaylee’s dear friend. Inara’s departure was still a festering wound for the crew. “Well, I think it’s different. She chooses her clients. She doesn’t have to pick someone out of desperation.”

Simon silently wondered how well Inara was riding out the economic collapse. Her clients were wealthy, of course, but apparently even the rich were facing serious hardships nowadays and that would have to be impacting even the most sought-after companions. During her last wave, Inara was vague as to her status though on the surface she seemed placid as usual.

“I always thought her job was so glamorous and all,” Kaylee said. “Loster’s offer wasn’t. It just…made me feel all dirty.”

As Simon again counseled her to forget the proposition, his thoughts drifted. For months now, he had been mulling over a question. He wanted to tell Kaylee that he loved her. The couple had not yet exchanged those words. He was certain, now, that he did love her. He was even pretty sure that she felt the same way. But Simon had wanted to find the ideal time and place to tell her that.

Dawes’s café had been a beautiful setting, but the two didn’t have a moment alone and Simon hardly fancied the idea of telling her in front of the rest of the crew. This was a very serious and private matter. Kaylee apparently hadn’t noticed his recent grappling with this matter. Lately, he felt the desire and urge to communicate this with her even more greatly.

“You’re right, Simon,” Kaylee was saying. “Far as I’m concerned, Loster don’t even exist no more!”

“That’s the…” Simon’s sentence broke off as he looked up to see that River had silently entered the room. She stood before them, her hair in its usual disheveled state, her eyes set with their usual intensity. She did have a slight smile on her face.

“Mei mei,” he began gently. “It’s always good to see you, but remember what I said about knocking?”

River’s smiled widened and she looked from her brother to Kaylee. “He loves her,” River stated. “He’s been wanting to tell her that but has been searching for the right time. It’s different than the way he loves me. He loves her and he needs to just tell her already.”

Kaylee burst from her sitting position. “She loves him too!” she exclaimed. She reached up and pulled both of the Tams into a hug. It was an awkward hug but the three gripped onto each other tightly.

“Is that really true, Simon?” Kaylee asked, stepping back and almost a bit ashamed of her outburst now. Her cheeks were mildly pink.

“Um, yes,” he sputtered. It felt strange with his sister standing right there, and with River being the one to say the words in his place. He was relieved that they were out in the open though he wanted to be the one to tell Kaylee. Inwardly he sighed. Nothing in the ‘verse really went the way it he intended, so why should this be any different? He was about to continue when River spoke up again.

“There will never be a right time to tell her, Simon,” River said intently. “So tell her now.”

Resigned to the fact that River was not going to allow any privacy during this intimate moment, Simon turned towards Kaylee. “I love you,” he said simply.

Kaylee grabbed Simon again and smacked her lips against his. “I love you too!” she declared, her eyes dazzled and her smile wide.

Several hours later, the two lay cuddled up together in bed. Both were too stirred up for sleep, though Kaylee kept hoping she would drift off. Sleeping was a wonderful way to pass the time until the next meal, and for every hour Kaylee remained awake, the growls of her stomach increased in intensity.

She felt Simon shift position and flip his pillow over as well. They looked at each other in the darkness and soon fell into an easy conversation.

“Do you think River’s lonely?” Simon wondered, keeping his voice to a whisper. He rubbed an eye. “She comes in here sometimes, like today…” his sentence drifted off.

“We both spend time with her,” Kaylee said. “It ain’t like we leave her alone.”

“I love that you do that,” Simon admitted. “You’ve made her a friend, and I really appreciate that. I always have.” Kaylee shrugged. “I gotta have girlfriends. I like havin’ ‘em. And with Inara gone, it’s been rough on me. There’s Zoe – but, heck, her personal life pretty much revolves around her husband and her captain and she ain’t ever had much interest in hangin’ with me too much. I like bein’ with River.” Kaylee paused and took a breath. “But I guess she’ll always be a bit alone. No matter how much time we spend with her none of us can really understand her. Or what she’s been through.”

*** The job on Bedford proved to be a moderate success. The buyers kept up their end of the agreement and Serenity’s crew found itself being paid, though only after a spirited chase from the local authorities. They had to leave the planet with great haste. Their payment was enough to keep them flying and eating for the next several weeks. For once, fortune seemed to smile on the crew.

But then, no further jobs could be lined up. During the following weeks, the crew kept all eyes and ears open, and made several stops on surrounding planets and moons. So far, they had no success locating additional work. Their food supplies would again be dwindling soon unless a new job could be found.

Several weeks after leaving Bedford, Zoe was in the infirmary. Her labor had started, and all signs indicated that it would be a long one.

Wash and Kaylee sat outside the infirmary together. She had seen him sitting there alone and went up to him. The rest of the crew was keeping their distance, though the captain and shepherd had stopped by.

“Don’t you wanna be in there?” Kaylee asked, placing a hand over Wash’s and tilting her head towards the infirmary. He reached for the hand she offered and clutched it to his damp one.

The two people whom Wash and Kaylee loved – adored, really -- were inside the room with its transparent windows, engaged in a struggle to bring forth new life, Kaylee mused. She then corrected her thoughts. Really, the struggle was Zoe’s. Simon would assist but Zoe was the one who would have to bring this baby into the world. Kaylee had seen many babies born, on her home planet. Her mother sometimes assisted with the births and when Kaylee was young, she’d tag along even though she preferred to assist her dad with his work instead.

“She doesn’t want me in there right now,” Wash said flatly.

Kaylee looked at him. His eyes were haggard. Her own eyes narrowed at his words. “You sure ‘bout that?” She was worried about Wash. She hadn’t heard him crack a joke for days.

Wash shrugged. “She’s been in labor for seven hours and we’ve still got a long way to go before that baby’s born.”

“So?”

“Well, she yelled at me that she wanted me out. She’s probably going to toss Simon out any minute now,” Wash stated plainly.

Kaylee smiled at the thought of the very-pregnant Zoe getting into a physical confrontation with Simon. Zoe would probably still win.

“Do you want a baby someday, Kaylee?” Wash asked, seeing the bemusement on her face and wanting to know its source.

Kaylee nodded. “Someday. But not any time soon. I’m too young right now.” She paused, and her smile grew wider. “Simon would be a great dad. The way he takes care of River proves it.”

Wash nodded. Indeed the doctor knew all about self-sacrifice and thought nothing about giving up everything he owned to save someone for whom he was the caretaker. For some reason, this thought depressed Wash.

“What about you, Wash? You’re gonna be a Daddy. You excited right now?”

Excitement was not the prevalent emotion being experienced by Wash. This was going to be such a change, he reflected silently. His emotional life centered around Zoe and around Serenity. Mostly Zoe now, ever since they married. He always knew -- despite the fact that Zoe didn’t verbalize it that often -- that she felt the same way. But from this day forward, Zoe’s focus would be around the child. In all likelihood, for the rest of the days that she and Wash would be alive, Zoe’s interests and concerns would center on their daughter. Wash would still be important to her but not in the same way anymore, and that fact felt like a little death inside of him. He had known from the moment he assented to the idea of having a baby that it would be this way, and now it was all coming to fruition.

Not that he could say he hadn’t agreed to this when he gave Zoe the engagement necklace, the pilot reminded himself. Zoe had brought up the subject of having children more than once before they made their vows. Wash was so in love that he would have consented to anything -- say raising pet boa constrictors or swallowing tar every morning -- in order to marry Zoe.

Simon would be different than that, Wash thought. He would indeed make a wonderful father since he had no problem with neglecting himself for the sake of another.

Wash didn’t quite want to verbalize all of this to Kaylee. “Mostly I’m nervous,” he admitted. “I just hope it goes alright.”

Kaylee was surprised at seeing this side of the pilot. “Of course it will be alright,” she insisted. “Zoe’s so strong, and she’s got a great doctor to help her through this.” Kaylee glanced at the infirmary and back at the worried husband. “You know, I bet Zoe does want you in there. Even if she yells a bit. Women say a lot of strange things in labor.”

Wash nodded. Maybe, he thought, his fears were somewhat unfounded. Zoe would always love him, too. She really could have had her pick of any (well, lots of) men, but she’d chosen him to marry and to father her child. She took her vows seriously and she wouldn’t neglect the marriage. “You’re right, Kaylee,” he said, as he got to his feet.

When Wash entered the infirmary, Zoe was engaged in an argument of sorts with Simon.

“I just think it’s better if you lay down,” Simon said, in a tone that Wash knew meant the doctor had already conceded.

“Layin’ on my back ain’t helpin’ anything. Gonna let gravity do some work now,” Zoe said, managing a slight and weary smile in Wash’s direction. “Help me up, husband.” As Wash assisted Zoe to her feet, she said, “I feel the need to move.”

Simon nodded and then, sensing the couple wanted privacy and knowing he couldn’t do much now anyway, headed for the door. “I’ll be right out here.”

Wash held Zoe’s hand as she stood and took a few steps around the small sick bay. “Sorry I yelled at you earlier,” she said.

“I think we can make a special exception to the rules of marital etiquette today,” he responded. He looked around the room for a sponge. “Do you want me to wipe your brow now?”

“I think the brow-wiping is going to be really needed in a few hours, when I’m pushing the baby out.”

“I’ll be at the ready then.”

Zoe shook her head. “This is gonna be a long labor,” she predicted. “I heard some of ‘em can take 72 hours.”

“I really hope our – I mean, your – labor won’t be that long.”

Zoe raised an eyebrow at his change of pronoun. “Think it will be our labor. This’ll be rough on both of us.”

“Maybe. But I’m not the one feeling the contractions!”

~~ Two hours later ~~

Wash had his dinosaurs in the infirmary. He positioned them along Zoe’s body. One of the dinosaurs grunted and groaned during an agonizing labor, but was soon delivered of a beautiful baby dinosaur (which Wash didn’t have an action figure for, and had to represent with a cotton ball). The baby dinosaur made some of the strangest sounds ever to come from Wash’s mouth.

River stuck her head in the room and pointed out that Wash’s reenactment of dinosaur interactions contained numerous inaccuracies about the actual lives and workings of dinosaurs. Wash threw the cotton ball at her.

Zoe watched their interplay and muttered, “I already have a thirty-one year old child named Hoban – why did I want another one?” Wash laughed merrily, seeing how he brought some real glee to his struggling wife.

~~ Four hours later ~~

The shepherd walked in and offered to read a passage from the bible. Zoe wasn’t religious but she did like the sound of Book’s voice, so she listened.

Mal soon entered and, trying to be humorous, told Zoe that he had an urgent job for her and needed her to suit up for combat immediately. He said that he hoped her bullet-proof vest would still fit. Wash quickly explained that Zoe was not in the mood for humor now as Zoe made a face at the captain that Mal had never seen before.

~~ Nine hours later ~~

“Feel like I’ve been in labor for days,” Zoe managed. She had just survived a round of intensely painful contractions. She couldn’t even try to explain her experience with the pain. She simply had nothing to compare it to. No bullet wound or knife gash caused this amount of agony. They weren’t even on the same scale. She thought of using a few analogies, such as ‘being torn open’ or ‘feeling so much pain I want to jump out of my skin’, but Zoe generally didn’t take to colorful metaphors and besides, she knew from looking at her husband that he was trying to understand her ordeal. She knew in her bones that he was looking at her and wishing that it was him bearing the utter misery instead.

“I suppose you don’t want to hear any more clichés or hear me say again that it’ll all be over soon, right?” Wash asked.

Zoe tried to look around the infirmary but was too weak to sit up. She wanted confirmation that the two of them were alone.

“What is it, bao bei?” he asked. “You want me to get Simon?”

Zoe shook her head. Wash reached for a towel and patted at the sweat that had not yet begun to dry on her face. “It will all be worth it when we’re holding her in our arms.” He then rolled his eyes. “That’s the third time I’ve said that phrase, isn’t it? I really need to come up with new comfort words.”

“Still nice to hear,” Zoe said, having none of Wash’s attempts at levity now. She looked intently at her husband. “You wanna get some shut-eye?” she asked. “We can wake you when we’re close.”

Wash shook his head. “I’d rather stay here with you. We started this together; let’s finish it together.”

“Very poetic, dear but no point in both of us sufferin’.”

He shrugged. “I could go back to our bunk but I’m not going to be able to get much sleep anyway. I’ll stay here.”

He paused and tried to discern the expression on Zoe’s face. Whatever it was, the expression was obscured by the agony. He had a momentary flash of a thought that perhaps she wanted to bear this pain alone. “Do you…want me to leave?”

Zoe considered the thought for a few seconds, deciding. She then shook her head and answered, “No.”

While glad to hear her sentiment, Wash felt a rising panic fluttering up through his insides as he realized what that certain look on his wife’s face indicated. Zoe was afraid. Fear was not an emotion he associated with her, ever. She had always been able to enter any situation, whether it be with someone like Badger or with (and Wash shuddered at this thought) Niska, and Zoe never displayed any palpable fear. But the combination of her eyes being open a bit wider than usual and the set of her jaw made Wash start to worry.

“Zoe,” he began quietly, “are you….a bit scared?”

Zoe let out a deep breath – as deep as she could manage right now – and grimaced with pain before answering. “Yeah,” she admitted. “‘Fraid I ain’t gonna even have the energy left to push. When it’s time.”

Wash listened, nodded, and then encouraged her, “Go on,” suspecting there was more and wanting her to flush it out.

“Thought all this would be easier,” Zoe managed, after a long pause. “Knew it wouldn’t be easy but didn’t think it would be this hard. And I’m mad that I’m this weak, am havin’ such a hard time with the pain. Been shot before, been stabbed, gone for days without eatin’ or drinkin’ before -- this is harder. A lot harder.” She gritted her teeth and uncharacteristically repeated herself, “I’m mad at myself.”

“Zoe, you can’t be mad at yourself,” Wash said fervently. He then added, “Well, you could if you wanted I guess, but what’s the point? You’re doing a great job with this labor thing! I mean, I know that only being the husband I really have no idea what you’re going through, but from my viewpoint I think you’re handling it really well. You don’t seem weak at all to me and I think you’re doing an incredible job.”

“You ain’t upset to see me like this?” she asked. “Weak. And afraid.” She tried to ask the question evenly and without quivering. She knew that one of the aspects he loved about her was her courage and toughness.

“Actually, I think you’re stronger than ever, especially because you admitted that you’re afraid. That’s not easy to do, and I know it’s really hard for you. For what it’s worth, I admire you more than anything now.”

“It’s worth the whole damn ‘verse to me!” Zoe said, fervently.

A few hours later, Zoe and Wash found that the pain truly was all worth it. They held their daughter together, looking at her tiny hands and feet, her reddish face, the thick black hair on her head. She wailed loudly and powerfully. When Zoe took her in her arms, the baby eventually quieted down.

Zoe looked exhausted and content, Wash exhausted and awed. But their fatigue was brushed aside in favor of bliss. Wash kissed his wife’s cheek and wanted to say something about how moved he was to hold this, this product of their love. But for once he was worried that he might sound sappy and he said nothing, even bypassing making gurgling sounds at the baby for now.

The girl’s official name was Theresa Alleyne Washburne, but they planned on calling her Tess. She was a small baby, a mere wisp at 5 lbs, 2 ounces.

Simon pronounced her healthy, bearing out the results of the pre-natal tests. Although the girl was small and facing borderline malnutrition – as was the entire crew – she appeared in about as good condition as possible.

When the rest of the crew was allowed to visit, Kaylee produced a tiny yellow ribbon which Zoe affixed to Tess’s hair. She cooed cheerfully at the infant. Kaylee kissed Simon before ending her visit.

Jayne looked at the baby and said a sincere, “Wow.” He didn’t ask if he could hold her though.

“Beautiful spirit,” River murmured. “Fragile and small, a tiny vessel in this big world.”

Book’s eyes lit up and he looked sincerely joyous. He congratulated the parents and offered to christen Tess if Zoe and Wash ever so decided.

Mal looked steadily at the baby. She appeared so fragile and vulnerable, and he still thought his first mate and pilot were mildly insane for bringing her into the ‘verse and onto his ship. Even as he sincerely thought that though, he looked at the baby and felt part of his insides turn to jelly. He gazed at the tiny infant and whispered, “Welcome to my crew.”

“In a few years, she’ll be a gun-toting, dinosaur-playing pilot warrior!” Wash proclaimed to the captain, his voice swelling with pride.

Mal gave a half-smile at Wash’s words. He exchanged a look with Zoe before leaving the infirmary, and it was a look which Zoe knew well. The captain was worried.

And he wasn’t the only one. Zoe and Wash had to hope that Zoe’s breast milk would hold out and sustain Tess. With every morsel of food being monitored, Zoe needed to produce enough nutrients to keep the baby alive.

*** TO BE CONTINUED

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