CHAPTER 5

The couch was cozy and far from the buzzing noise of the party still going outside despite the lateness of the hour. Zoë lifted Mal and Inara’s wedding picture off the coffee table as Jackson curled up on her lap to sleep. Sunset crater on Deadwood, party of ten. It was the first time Zoë had ever been at Mal’s side without a pistol strapped to her hip – and probably the last. The warm breeze mixed with desert dust hit her like a gentle memory. Kaylee as maid of honor. Zoë as ‘Best Woman’ because Mal wouldn’t name anyone else to stand by his side. Jackson had been two then, bouncing like a kangaroo in Mama Reynold’s lap through the whole ceremony. No traditions, no rituals, just family – and only the closest members at that. When Inara had left Serenity after Miranda, Zoë never thought she’d see this day; but after Jayne’s funeral, something in Mal snapped. He took to chasing Inara like she was the last breath of oxygen in all the black. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. Nearly sold Serenity, just to prove he’d stop at nothing to have her. Fortunately for the both of them, she loved Serenity as much as he did. Zoë brushed a bit of dust from the picture frame. If she squinted her eyes just so, she could see Serenity’s silhouette in the background, outlining the space between the Mal and Inara, joining them together. She smiled at the memory. Jackson’s breathing slowed as he fell to dreams, exhausted from a day spent exploring the Reynold’s ranch. Zoë fingered her Mare’s Leg, then Jackson’s Mateba, wondering again about the life she had thrust her son into. After the first Tao Wu attack, she’d had a serious talk with him. He’d handled the second assault well, but Jackson was always in his element when planet-side. “There’s another bed upstairs,” Inara whispered, tip-toeing into the living room. “You really think we have the night?” Inara shook her head, sitting on the couch next to Zoë as she tangled her fingers in her son’s hair, letting his peaceful expression drive out thoughts of the coming fight. “He’s not used to wakin’ up to violence,” Zoë explained. “I just don’t want him to be alone when it starts.”

*~*

Mal’s stomach protested that he ate too much, but his taste buds begged for another slice of cornbread. He could feel the peace settling into his bones at the familiar thought of his mother and forty ranch hands preparing a ho-down. The sight of Kaylee laughing and flirting with the men warmed his heart, even as it chilled Simon’s. The Doctor remained distant, probably wise considering the rancher’s reaction to him. Surprisingly, River was also aloof, sitting on an old tree stump, her lips moving, her body rocking. “Hey, Little One. Teng ma?” he asked, indicating her wrist. Does it hurt? River continued to rock, staring at her knees, her body tremoring. “You know all these years when I worried about you, I’ve been asking your brother how you fare. And then this morning, he asked me how you’re doin’. He asked me!” Mal repeated, with incredulous emphasis. River didn’t respond, so Mal squatted down till he was at eye-level with her and continued. “And I realize I don’ know. So I’m askin’, how are you doing?” “Moving backwards, not forwards. Circle the sky, needle in my eye.” “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take that,” Mal chuckled, worried. Finally River met his eye and his blood went cold. “You’re not looking for me, you’re looking for Kaylee. You look at her but you don’t see her. Don’t see inside.” “Is there something I need to be seeing about Kaylee?” “Everyone looks at Kaylee. No one looks at River. The butter is spread thin and melts.” Mal was concerned now. River was starting to sound like her old self – her very old self from before Simon had found that magical cocktail. “Is there something I need to be seeing about you?” he asked. River looked at him shakily. “My heart hurts.” Finally! Something clear! Something he understood. She was upset and grieving and this was just how it looked on her… or so he hoped. Deciding to cheer her up, he held out his hand suavely. “You wanna dance with me?” “There’s no music.” “Not just yet, but I saw some of the boys pullin’ out the strings.” As if on cue, the music started and a spot on the lawn cleared out. The ranch hands danced to the swinging sounds of bluegrass, the band consisting of a violin, guitar, banjo, ukulele, and upright base. River accepted Mal’s hand and followed him to the dance area. She was a little shaky, but probably just needed a good meal in her – maybe another slice of cornbread after this song. The music took him straight back to his childhood, firing memories in his brain that he hadn’t visited in years. “Watch this,” Mal smiled mysteriously as River observed his face. Suddenly his feet broke into a lively jig, jumping in time with the music. After a few phrases, he paused to gauge River’s response. With a calculated smile, she repeated every move, adding a few kicks and turns of her own. Laughing in delight, the two danced through the entire song, spinning and twirling and at the end, both were winded. Mal placed his hands on his knees, catching his breath; then he led River to the table to find himself some water… and cornbread. “You okay?” he asked handing her a drink. Despite her trembling limbs, River’s voice held child-like excitement as she cheered, “Let’s go again!” “I’m afraid these old bones need more of a rest than that,” he chuckled, concerned by how unsteady she looked. He put one hand around her waist to steady her, and just like that, her knees buckled. She spilled her drink on the grass, looking startled as Mal held her up. “Whoa, hold on there. I got you. Find your feet.” River’s face went in a flash from happiness to surprise to concern. “Herself is hurting,” she whimpered. Her knees wobbled again and with a little effort, Mal lifted her off the ground and carried her into the house. Simon noticed and rushed to follow. “Speak plainly, Little One. I know you can.” “She skips them. Skips on the water.”

*~*

Mal laid River on the couch in the living room. Inara stood up in concern and Simon rushed in, turning on as many lights as he could. Zoë shushed them, concerned for River, but not wanting to wake Jackson. River’s voice had dropped to that creepifying low level as she repeated a mantra. “Chemical pebbles, Color of frond, Skips if you want, Skips on the pond.” “River, I’m right here. Are you in pain?” Simon hadn’t given her any pain killers for her broken wrist on account of the negative interaction it would have with her other meds. But at this point, he’d be willing to risk one of them. He recognized that expressionless look – the one that said she was trying to shut out a world too cruel for living in. Simon had fought hard to free her from that Alliance made prison. And after many years of freedom, Cappy’s death had sent her right back. River didn’t respond to him, she just repeated her song. “Chemical pebbles. Color of frond.” “She’s been actin’ more and more like her very old self, from before you found that mix,” Mal pointed out. “Can you just give her an extra dose?” “No, those drugs are pretty potent. Any increase would cause her organs to shut down.” “Where does that leave us?” Simon sighed in frustration. “If her system has become immune to the treatment, that leaves us at square one. I need to find a new one.” “Skips if you want. Skips on the pond.” “You sure it’s something with the treatment?” Zoë asked. “Her old self was never this shaky. She never just fell and broke a bone like she did this morning.” “Could be a defect in this particular batch of doses.” “Maybe she skips them.” Everyone’s eyes turned to Jackson as no one had realized he was awake. The boy still rested his tired head on Zoë’s lap, but his eyes were transfixed on River’s face, watching the movement of her lips. River repeated the song and this time everyone listened. “Inara, run and fetch the meds from her room,” Simon ordered, then turned to River. “River, have you been skipping your meds?” River repeated the song, looking at Simon with resignation in her eyes, as if her lips were moving without her brain’s consent. Unable to take the repeated nonsense, Mal placed a hand over her mouth to silence her, then pushed Simon aside to kneel by the couch. River placed her hand on Mal’s, which made him all manner of uncomfortable since he knew how powerful a fighter she could be when she wanted. “Is this what I need to see about you, River? That you stopped taking your meds?” River nodded slowly, imperceptibly. Then she pulled Mal’s hand away from her mouth and whispered. “One of the twelve.”

*~*

Inara cuddled in Mal’s arms, his browncoat draped over her shoulders as they rocked back and forth on the front porch swing. The party had mellowed, the children were sleeping, Simon tended to River, Mama Reynolds cleaned. Inara fiddled with her wedding ring, a simple band with four stones, all inset so they wouldn’t hurt Mal when she slapped him. At least that’s what he’d told her when he’d given it to her. She’d slapped him a few times tonight, but only playfully as he suggested uncouth names for their unborn child. They’d been laughing for the past hour, making a game over who could come up with the least favorable name. As sleep tugged at her eyes, she stopped making suggestions and just enjoyed the gentle motion of the swing and the comfort of her husband’s arms. His face was rough from blunt razors and harsh soap, his hair flying about carelessly in the evening breeze. “So now you’ve seen where I grew up. Do you like it?” Inara answered slowly, thoughtfully. “It’s strange to say, but I feel like I’ve always lived here.” Mal let the answer sink in and the silence hang a moment. “How would you like to stay here for a spell?” “How long a spell?” “Was thinkin’ till the baby comes. Or till we get stir crazy. Whichever comes first.” “About two weeks then.” Mal laughed lightly. “I know you’d follow me to the ends of the ‘verse and circles from there. But it occurs to me you might need a rest from all this gun slingin’. Maybe find a world, start your own training house.” Inara lifted her head in surprise. “But you’re just pulling the old crew back together?” “Truthfully, I thought this job would run a whole lot smoother. I wanted to ease Zoë back into this life, not throw her to the wolves. May be apparent to you that Kaylee and River could use the recoup time. Seems they all got a touch of space dementia.” He was looking out on the open sky, but his thoughts were solely on her. For her part, she could hardly fathom the nature of his suggestion. “A training house?” she repeated, incredulous, but at the same time excited. Mal tended to acknowledge her profession as only a necessary evil. He’d never displayed any sentiment approaching approval. “Just a thought. Nothin’ needs deciding today. Still got to finish this job.” Inara settled back into his arms, her mind racing with the possibilities, shocked and amazed at her husband. “How is it you’re still a mystery to me?” They rocked in awed silence a moment, then Mal pointed at the sky. “Hey, look who just peaked under the awning. See that bright one up there. That’s Deadwood. You get a good telescope, you can see Sunset Crater. That one there is Persephone… looks so far away when you see it from here.” “Where’s Sihnon?” “Sihnon set about half hour ago. About when you were tryin’ ta name our baby Pushkar.” They laughed and continued to swing. The screen door on the porch creaked open and Mama Reynolds poked her head out. “Qian Chung scout. Malcolm, get all the kids and gimps to the basement shelter. Inara, you may want to change into fightin’ clothes.” She disappeared as quickly as she came. Inara stood to follow her inside, but Mal grabbed her wrist. “You don’t need to stand in rank with a rifle this time. You should take shelter in the basement with the others.” “No, I’ll stay by your side.” “You don’t have to ‘Nara. Think about Emma, and little Pushkar.” Inara placed her hand on his calmly. “It’s okay, Mal. I’m here by my own choice.”

*~*

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