DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to Joss and we thank him for letting us play here ***************************

Sometimes we do not understand what we need or what we have and it often takes us awhile to figure it all out.

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What did I ever do to deserve this thought the 10-year-old Simon Tam as he held his baby sister for the first time? He looked into her shiny eyes and felt her tiny fist touch his nose, his heart swelling with love.

What did I ever do to deserve this? Simon glared at his two-year-old sister sitting in the middle of his room surrounded by pieces of thermoplast that had been his mostly completed double helix model for the science fair.

What did I ever do to deserve this, mused Simon as he watched River dance gracefully around the music room of the Tam estate while he softly played a Chopin waltz? River’s loving smiles engulfing him.

What did I ever do to deserve this? The very proper and law abiding Dr.Simon Tam had never been in a blackout zone in his entire life. He could not stop the shiver that ran down his spine nor the fear that electrified his nerve endings. What did she ever do to deserve this? His face showing nothing as sick fury balled in his stomach at the sight of the figure bound to the chair. His sister writhed in fear and agony.

What did we ever do to deserve this? Simon turned weary eyes to the bed where River lay, her alabaster skin tinged with blue from the cold of cryo sleep. His distasteful glance traveling along the dingy slightly rusted walls of the corridor outside the ship’s infirmary.

What did I ever do to deserve this? Muttered Simon under his breath as he set the last of the stitches in Jayne’s right hip where a disgruntled customer had decided to sheath his knife.

What did I ever do to deserve this? The words filled Simon’s mind as he quietly entered the dim room. He drank in the sight of two heads of shiny brown curls on the pillow. He quietly bent over placing soft kisses on the cheeks of his sleeping wife and his two-year-old daughter.

********************** Good, bad, or indifferent comments are always welcome. They feed a writer's soul and help them grow. All forms of fertilizer welcome.