CHAPTER FOUR Hoping that Drake would be unconscious for a while yet, at least until his shift was over, the preacher ventured off of his post and to the infirmary. He found the door closed but the lights on and, through the windows, he could clearly see Kaylee, hugging herself as she lay on the examination chair, crying freely. He wondered critically, as he opened the door, how anyone could see the girl so upset and not rush to comfort her. “Go away!” Kaylee yelled, when he only had the door half-open. “You don’ wanna see me so just . . . just go away.” “But,” Book said, very kindly as he stepped into the room. “I do want to see you.” “Wha’?” the girl asked, opening her bloodshot eyes and seeing that it was the shepherd, not the doctor, who’d intruded on her misery. “Although,” he continued, walking up so that he was standing next to her. “I must say, I never thought I’d see you in such a state.” “Preacher,” the girl said, forcing herself to take deep breaths and wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought you were Simon.” “I figured as much.” Book told her compassionately. “Would you like a glass of water?” She nodded and tried to smile at him, though she looked intolerably sad. Book turned to the nearest faucet and, after digging a second in nearby counters, found a glass for water. “You know,” he said, as he filled the small vessel. “Maybe I should be complimented ‘bout you thinking I was Simon. It’s not every man who’s mistaken for someone a third his age, by a pretty young girl none the less.” When he turned and handed her the glass he found her genuinely smiling through her tears. “Thanks,” she said, her voice was cracked and rough and in obvious need of liquid. “It was my pleasure,” Book said, smiling at her as she drank her water. When she was done he took the cup back and asked, “Would you like some more.” “Naw,” her voice sounded much better. “I’m fine.” “You certainly look better,” Book observed. “How do you feel?” “A little achy,” Kaylee admitted. “A lot of numb.” “A lot of sad?” Book prompted compassionately. The girl closed her eyes and nodded, when she opened them again, she looked the shepherd in the eyes and asked, “How can some people be so mean?” “People get upset,” the preacher said wisely. “Emotions run high and they say things they don’t mean.” “Is there any way to stop it?” Kaylee asked. “Any way to be bigger then yer emotions?” “Of course,” he assured her. “I’ve found that my faith helps me through emotional times. It’s like a compass, no matter what I’m feeling or thinking, I can know the truth and know what’s good by following Jesus and what he would do.” “Followin’ Jesus?” Kaylee asked with a sniffle. “It sounds trite, I know,” Book acknowledged. “And, of course, it doesn’t do much good when people like Drake come violently into your life.” “It’s not Drake’s fault,” Kaylee said with a sigh. “Yes, Kaylee,” Book told her. “It is.” “Well, not all together,” Kaylee said. “We were both drunk. Nobody thinks to follow Jesus when they’re drunk.” “Being drunk don’t give them carte blanche to hurt others.” “At least he’s got an excuse,” Kaylee said. “Least, when he looks back on this whole thing, assuming, you know, he remembers any a it, he’ll be able to say ‘I was drunk, I didn’t know better’. What kind of excuse do I got? I was just mean.” “Kaylee,” the older man said, very kindly but very seriously. “You didn’t cause this. Nothing that happened was your fault.” The girl shook her head, “No, Simon was right, it all comes back to me bein’ mean.” “Simon told you this was your fault?” Book asked. Part of him doubted that the boy had really said such a thing, and the other part of him was furious that the doctor could be so callous as to even imply it. “He told me I was petty and he was right,” Kaylee said. “An’ he told me I was lashin’ out at him ‘cause I was mad at Inara, and he was right. And I told him that I wasn’t with Drake to make him mad or jealous, but I can’t really remember anymore if that was true or not. “I . . .” the girl continued. “I really don’t think Drake meant to hurt me. I really think he was just drunk stupid. And just now, I don’t think, I mean, I know Simon didn’t mean to hurt me. I made him say the things he did, I goaded them out a him. But I meant to hurt Simon, that was my goal.” She turned to the preacher and asked in all earnestness, “So what kind a person does that make me? I mean, how could I feel the way I feel about him, and want to hurt him? I’m a terrible person.” “No,” Book said, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You are, sometimes, a confused person, but never a terrible one.” “He’s not even mad over what I did to him,” Kaylee said, looking down at the ground. “He’s mad ‘cause I put River in danger, and ‘cause I put me in danger.” “You know,” Book said, “There was a man, a bliss addict, who used to come to the Abbey’s homeless shelter every night to sleep. We tried to put him into social programs, get him cleaned up, get him a job, get him a life he could be proud of, but, without fail, he’d go back to the bliss. We even tried to send him to a rehab center once, but after a week he ran away and four days later showed up, half high, and needing a warm place to sleep. I tried to share the gospel with him once, and he asked if, after becoming a Christian, he would have to give up the drugs. I told him I thought he would and he asked me why. His reasoning seemed to be that he wasn’t hurting anyone with this habit, why should God care? I tried to explain to him that God loved him so much, enough to become human and die for him. And every time my homeless friend used bliss, he was harming himself, and by harming himself, he was paining God. Naturally, a Christian does not want to give God pain.” “Did he buy it?” the girl asked. “No,” Book shook his head. “When I left Persephone he was still a regular at the shelter, and looking sicker and more haggard by the day. I tell this story because I really think, in a lot of ways, it’s the same with you and Simon.” Kaylee got a worried expression on her face, “Is Simon the bliss-head, or am I?” Book laughed, “Neither of you are . . . this story was an example of a type of love. No direct correlations should be made.” “So I’d be the bliss-head then?” “I’m just trying to say,” Book insisted, “That Simon’s anger at you for doing yourself harm only illustrates that he cares for you. He will forgive you, I imagine in his heart he already has.” Book warped his hand around Kaylee’s and squeezed it sympathetically. “Accept responsibility for what is your fault, apologize, but don’t get stuck blaming yourself. Let yourself be forgiven and move on. I’m sure he’d rather see you grin then grovel.” Kaylee smiled, “And try not to hurt someone who loves me.” “That’s a good rule to live by,” Book said, smiling back. * * * “Ojal,” the voice of one of the house’s interns called sweetly as someone pounded on the young girl’s door. “Are you awake?” “Yes,” the girl groaned, pushing herself out of her satin sheets and feather bed which, tonight, she slept in alone. “Yes, I’m awake.” “Michi has something for you,” the young girl said. “Put on you’re robe and come promptly down to the sitting room.” And so, promptly, the beautiful young girl, wrapped somewhat modestly in a sky blue velvet robe, appeared in the sitting room. She found a very nervous young man sitting there and the house matron herself trying to calm him. “You called for me, Miss,” Ojal asked, curtsying slightly as she entered. “Ah, Ojal,” the matron said warmly, standing to welcome the young girl. The man stood too, and even though he looked haggard and what was left of his suite was in disarray, it was obvious that he was a gentleman. “Allow me to introduce you to Dr. Simon Hawkley.” “Ah, Dr. Hawkley,” Ojal said, smiling widely as she stepped into the room. “Inara’s friend. I am perfectly delighted to meet you.” “Likewise I’m sure,” he said, shaking her hand politely, although she saw more then a little confusion shading his eyes. “Inara is presently occupied,” Michi told the doctor. “I’ll fetch her at the soon as she’s free. But until then, Ojal here would be very happy to keep you company.” The doctor looked nervous, like he was blushing, it was so cute. “That’s really,” he stuttered, “Really not . . .” “Oh, it’s my pleasure,” Ojal said, taking the young man’s hand as she sat down, pulling him back onto the couch with her. “I pestered Inara to tell me her most exciting stories, but she wouldn’t of course. Perhaps this young man could enlighten me.” “Wonderful," Michi said. "So, doctor, Now that you’re situated, I must attend to other things. I’ll bring Inara presently.” “Thank you,” the doctor called after her politely. When he turned back to Ojal he had no idea what to say, she could see it in his eyes. Finally, he settled on, “So . . . so you know Inara?” “And so do you,” the companion retorted playfully. “You’ve spent the last year with her?” “About,” Simon nodded. “And had adventures?” the girl asked. “Some,” Simon said again. “Although, come to think of it, I’m not sure Inara was involved with any of the more, ah, adventurous episodes.” “None at all,” Ojal pouted. “Well,” he said, scanning the mosaic on the ceiling as if it contained his memories. “There, ah, there was the time that she and, ah, well, what happened was that the captain and first mate, they stole something off this train, but they were caught and so we had to, um, to . . . to get them out.” “Oh,” Ojal purred, “you stole something, how exciting.” “Yeah,” the doctor said dryly, “That’s pretty much how I felt.” “So, how did Inara break them out of jail? Did she seduce the deputy with the key?” “Ah,” the boy laughed, “No. She, ah, as I understand it, she claimed that the captain was her indentured servant who’d stolen the money for the train ticket from her and then run off with another man’s wife.” Ojal laughed, leaning forward so that her forehead was on the poor, uncomfortable doctor’s shoulder. “And it worked?” the companion asked breathlessly. “Yes, it did,” the doctor said. “She got them back.” “Oh, Inara,” Ojal said, pulling herself away and smiling sweetly at the doctor. “She was holding out, told us she had no adventures. Either she doesn’t want us to know or she doesn’t know what an adventure is.” She waited for him to say something, something that would impress her, something about his own daring, or, possibly, how there were so many adventures they became habit. But he didn’t, instead he just responded, rather weakly. “I wouldn’t know.” “You’re not the type to talk about adventures, now, are you, doctor?” Ojal said coyly, leaning forward and breathing on his neck. “You keep your secretes.” “That’s true,” the doctor said slowly, leaning away from her, looking at her as if she were crazy. “And, if it’s all the same to you, I’d also like to keep my personal space, um . . .” “Personal,” Ojal said, leaning back a safe three feet away from him but folding her lips into a sweet little pout. “I’m sorry,” the doctor said, looking her genteelly in the eyes, not bothering to notice the way her robe was open enough to show her perfect cleavage. “It’s not you I just . . . I didn’t come here to be seduced.” “You just want to talk to Inara.” “That’s right.” “Well, then,” Ojal said, dropping the seduction and perking up to be the sweet girl next door. “I’ll stop making you blush.” That got a smile out of him, “I’d appreciate that.” “Could you tell me what’s so important that you’d come here in the middle of the night?” He hesitated. “Or is that personal too?” “A friend,” he started uncertainly. “Someone she cares about, and I care about, was hurt in an accident. I think she should know.” “You could have sent her a wave if that was all.” “It’s complicated.” “I always thought of life on the rim as simple,” Ojal said. “And yet, filled with adventures,” the doctor observed. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” Ojal observed. “I suppose not,” the doctor nodded. “Fight or flight, the most basic instincts.” “Which are your instincts?” This question seemed to puzzle him. “I guess it depends on the situation.” “I suppose that would be true of everyone.” “I suppose so.” “I take it all your adventures were somehow one or the other.” “Hiding was also a feature,” Simon said. “But I think that’s probably just a subset of flight.” Ojal laughed pleasantly. “You are very funny.” “Well, thank you,” the boy said as all his mirth seemed to evaporate away and he became very introspective. Ojal took a moment to wonder what Michi had hoped would happen, but she didn’t take more than a moment. Divining the matron’s will was not her present task; being good company for the cute doctor was. “Penny for your thoughts,” she prompted sweetly. “The, um, the only other girl to tell me I was funny -- well, other then my sister – she’s the one who fell, who’s hurt.” “Are you worried about her?” “She’s . . . she’ll be fine.” “You do keep your secrets,” Ojal observed. “Ah,” he started. His face made it clear he didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. “Tell me all about this girl, the one that’s going to be fine.” “Why?” the doctor asked, almost suspiciously. “Because,” Ojal said, “You obviously care about her, and Inara cares about her. I'm just curious." “I’d really rather not talk about her right now,” the doctor said. “But you came here to talk to Inara about her.” “You’re very sweet and, ah, compassionate, I’m sure, and a very good listener, but this is—” “Personal,” Ojal said nodding. “Like I said, you hold your secrets close.” “It’s the only way I know how to keep them,” he said flatly. “Are you sure they’re worth keeping?” The doctor opened his mouth and paused, as if he suddenly second guessed what he had been going to say. He closed his mouth and opened it again, about to answer, when the door slid open and Michi’s smiling face appeared. “Doctor, Inara’s ready and waiting for you in her room. If you’ll come with me.” “Ah, yes,” Simon said, standing uncertainty and walking over to the doorway. “Ojal, thank you for your assistance,” Michi said. “You may return to your room now.” “Thank you,” the girl said, curtsying. “It was very nice to meet you Dr. Hawkley.” “Yes,” the doctor said, favoring her with a smile, even though it seemed to take some effort on his part. “It was my pleasure.” Ojal watched them go and waited several minutes, to be sure they were gone. It was bad form to let a man see you exit the room, they should assume you stayed there, savoring the memory of their presence. She knew the doctor wouldn’t think that of her, but she dreaded the thought that Michi would catch her practicing bad form just because she was tired. * * * Inara wrapped her sheer robe around her more tightly as she walked into her practically empty room. Michi had not said what the emergency was, but she had insisted that it was, indeed, an emergency and practically ordered Inara to commit one of companioning’s greatest sins, leaving the client before the night was over. Toshi may have been asleep, but there was no telling when he would wake up and, were he to wake up without her beside him, his experience would have been ruined. Even if he didn’t wake up, Inara felt that leaving in the middle of a session was dishonest and she hated doing it. True, she’d left a sleeping client before, but only once, but that was to save Mal’s life. “Michi, what could possibly be so important as to—” she was saying tersely as she walked into the room then, finding the matron was not alone, faltered. “Simon,” she finally managed to say. She was so shocked by his presence and what felt like a rude intrusion of her past life into her present that she couldn’t think to say anything more. “He walked here from the docks,” Michi said. “That’s over three miles, in the middle of the night.” “Well, what does he want?” Inara asked, coming back to herself a little. “You should ask him,” Michi said, turning to the doctor and smiling in her matronly way. “I’ll leave you two alone now.” Inara watched silently as Michi exited. She felt tricked, somehow, by the older woman and trapped, oddly, in the room with Simon. She was angry with them both but she couldn’t think of any reason why. Once the door was closed, she turned to the young doctor and smiled graciously. “It’s good to see you.” “Kaylee fell,” was his odd response. “Down the stairs at the back of the cargo bay, and off the landing.” “Is she all right?” Inara asked, genuinely concerned. “Yes,” the doctor nodded. “She has a few cracked ribs and some burses, but nothing serious. She’ll be fine.” “If she’s not badly hurt, then why did you go through so much trouble to tell me?” Inara said. “Don’t you care?” Simon asked candidly. “Even a little.” “Of course I care,” Inara responded defensively. “But, Simon, you could have sent me a wave. To come here late at night, risk being seen.” “Interrupt you while you were working?” the boy interjected. “I wasn’t going to bring that up, but yes.” “You need to come back.” Inara laughed, “I can’t do that.” “Just for a visit,” Simon pressed. “Just to see Kaylee.” “I have a client,” Inara said. “I can’t . . .” “Come in the morning, before noon. You won’t even have to see Mal.” “Why is this so important to you?” “Because it’s important to Kaylee,” Simon said. “She feels like her best friends have betrayed her.” “Friends? Plural?” “You and I.” “Simon, you didn’t betray her.” “And you need to prove to her that you didn’t either.” Inara looked away, disgusted, “I can’t be at your beck and call. I have a life.” “I’m not asking you to leave it,” Simon continued. “Just take ten minutes—” “No Simon,” Inara snapped. “I’m not going back.” He stared at her for a second, confused and surprised, then a flame of realization lit in his eyes, “Michi was right,” Simon said softly. Inara felt suddenly naked, and not in a good, liberated way, but in the horrible, venerable way. She felt like Eve after she’d eaten the apple, as if her darkest secretes and most private thoughts were laid bare, and they weren’t very flattering. She cursed herself for letting the doctor provoke her to such an outburst and loss of composure. She took a deep breath, smoothing the lines of her robe as if her slip of emotions had left them wrinkled. When she finally looked at the doctor she was smiling and perfectly in control, “I’m sorry Simon, it’s just that it’s been such a busy day, and now this bad news about Kaylee, and –” “What are you running from?” Simon asked. Her smile didn’t slip, although, in retrospect, Inara thought that it might have been more convincing if it had. “What do you mean?” “You told me once that we were all running from something, what do you imagine chasing you?” “I don’t have nightmares about blue-handed twins, if that’s what—” “No,” Simon said. “It isn’t.” There was a pause and, as uncomfortable as this conversation was, Inara found it far better then the silence. “Then what do you mean?” “Michi told me about why you left the first time, about Braeden.” All Inara’s illogical discomfort was quickly channeled into righteous anger, “That was not her story to tell.” “You left here not because you wanted adventure but because you felt guilty,” Simon insisted with an odd mix of hardness and compassion. “Did you come back because you found a way to deal with that? Or did something on Serenity scare you even more.” “You have a degree in Medicine, Simon,” Inara said icily. “Not psychology.” “You crushed Kaylee,” Simon said, not backing down and inch. “And you avoided the issue with the entire crew. You’re a good companion, Inara, you can spin any situation, you can generate any emotion. You could have left on good terms if you’d wanted to. You wanted it so that none of us would come back to intrude on your new life.” “Simon, I left on good terms with you,” Inara said, feeling that ought to debunk his argument. “Yes, you did,” Simon nodded. “And that was a very safe thing for you to do. You know how dependent I am on the Captain, my life and River’s depends on his good favor.” “You talk like you’re a slave,” Inara said, hoping to change the subject. “I have a debt I can’t repay,” Simon nodded. “But Kaylee doesn’t, neither does Zoë, Wash, even Jayne. If you wanted you could have made it so they’d want to visit you, want to keep in touch with you, not wish that you’d never been here in the first place. Why don’t you want them to be part of your life?” Inara’s defensive strategy wasn’t working; the doctor was too persistent. She switched to offensive, “I can’t believe you of all people are asking me these questions? Of all the people on the ship who don’t know how to handle their emotions, you surely rank the highest.” Simon was clearly stunned by her sudden stroke of meanness. He sat, mute, while she continued her onslaught, “You are so incredibly repressed. You say I hurt Kaylee? Every day the girl is literally throwing herself at you and the only time you acknowledge it is when you’re both drunk. Mal is demeaning and Jayne is constantly abusing you and you sit there and you take it. It’s as if the only emotion you allow yourself to have is love for your crazy sister. Well, let me tell you something doctor, you’re running a far more dangerous race then I am. Whatever pressure I have, I can escape, while you’re trapped. Perhaps you should think about getting your own life in order before you start dictating how I live mine.” The young man stared at her for a second then nodded and stood. “Congratulations, Inara,” He said, walking quickly past her towards the door. “Now no one but the preacher and my crazy sister will remember you fondly, and no one will come looking for you ever again.” “Good,” Inara said coolly, watching him leave. Once the door was shut and a moment had passed and she was absolutely sure that Simon would not be coming back, the companion turned and started walking towards the back of her large room, where there was a sink. She’d wash her face, brush through her hair, and then return to Toshi who, hopefully, hadn’t woken yet. But before she’d taken two steps, her chest suddenly constricted, and her eyes suddenly watered, and her breathing suddenly became jagged, and she collapsed, sobbing, onto the ground. She’d done it, far more then she’d meant to, she’d rid herself of Serenity; a life of poverty and crime on the Rim, of constant terror and sporadic work, brutes like Jayne and bastards like Mal. Her breath caught in her throat and her lungs and eyes burned. No more Mal, and nothing to remind her. “Did you cry like this when you left us?” Michi’s kind voice said from above her. “No,” Inara gasped. “I . . . I didn’t . . .” “You love them,” Michi said, kneeling down so she could place a comforting hand on Inara’s back and offer the sobbing woman a handkerchief. “I do,” Inara said, nodding. “Then why are you leaving?” Michi asked. “The truth.” Inara forced herself to take a deep breath and wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. When she turned to Michi her expression was hard, almost unshakable. “Because when you love someone they can hurt you.” “People you don’t love can hurt you too,” Michi observed. “Not the same way,” Inara said. “When you love someone, whether they know it or not, they have power over you. I can’t live like that. I did once and . . .” “You loved Braeden?” Michi asked. “I always assumed you hated him.” “I needed him to love me back,” Inara said, tears pushing through her adamantine exterior. “And he wouldn’t. I couldn’t stop caring, I could stop thinking, but not caring. And then he . . .” “But you left all that,” Michi said. “You left it here. It could have stayed buried. You came back.” “Better Braeden then Mal,” Inara choked. “Braeden was very hard to love, I sometimes think I did it just for the challenge. And we were never in love, he was in love with me, I think, at least at one time. Maybe it was my lack of interest that made him so mean. But Mal . . .” “Mal is alive,” Michi observed compassionately. “And unavoidable.” “Better feel this way once and get it over with,” Inara said with a sob. “Once I’m free of him then I’ll be able to move on.” “No, Huan xing,” Michi said, “you won’t.” “What?” Inara asked, a tone of desperation in her voice. She couldn’t go on living like this, she had to find freedom somehow. “Because as soon as this wound heals, and you’re strong again, you’ll start to love again,” Michi said wisely, reaching out to the younger woman. Inara leaned her head on the matron’s shoulder and allowed the older woman to stroke her hair, just like a mother would her injured child. “It’s the way people work, it’s the only way they can. Far better to suffer from loving too much, then to suffer from no love at all.” “You sound like a fortune cookie,” the distraught companion observed. “Well, soon I will not sound nearly so pleasant,” Michi said. “What do you mean?” Inara asked, pulling herself away from the comforting embrace so she could prepare herself for another blow. “You can not stay here, Inara,” Michi said firmly, but not without tenderness. “But,” the companion stuttered. “You said . . .” “You are running away from your heart, and yourself,” Michi told her. “You are such a gifted companion that you can get away with it, and most don’t notice. Your clients certainty wouldn’t. But as time goes on and you run further and faster, it will catch up to you, and your performance will slip and that is a liability I will not have.” Inara didn’t know what to say; she choked out another sob. “I refuse to let you take the easy road, Inara,” Michi said. “I love you too much to see you settle for less then your best. You will go back to that ship and you will suffer and you will find joy and next time you come back to me, you will be coming to me, not leaving someone else.” “What if I never come back?” Inara asked. “Then you’re life will be full and happy,” Michi said. * * * Drake’s head was pounding. He opened his eyes only to be assaulted by a blinding light. He closed them again, and his head still hurt. A much too loud voice said, “Hey, he’s waking up.” There was a sharp pain in his rib cage and he grunted, opening his eyes to discover he was lying on his back in a strange place with a strange man standing over him. He forced his aching head to think and realized the man was dumb pilot, Wash, which meant that the place must have been on the ship Serenity. That made sense, he figured, because the last thing he really remembered was chasing the hot mechanic across Serenity’s catwalks, he must have fallen. “Wha—the . . .” he muttered, lifting his hands to his head and pressing down on his eyes, wanting to press down hard enough to crush his scull and stop the pain. The very sexy first mate, Zoë, stepped into his field of vision. She was looking down on him with an icy hatred and he was suddenly very afraid. “You ain’t rentin’ the shuttle,” Zoë told him coolly, not offering him a hands up. “What?” Drake asked again, totally baffled. “You’re leavin’ soon as you’re sober enough to stand,” Zoë said. “What happened?” Drake asked. “Can I see Shimon.” “Shimon?” Wash asked with a sharp laugh. “You want fatty oils?” “You know who I mean, the doctor,” Drake said, his anger inspiring him to try and sit up. That didn’t go so well, his head once again threatened to explode. He fell back down, pressing the heals of his hands against his temples and feeling that, if he ever in his life needed a doctor, it was at this moment. “He’s a little busy,” Zoë said with a shrug. “Gorramn it!” He spat. “I need a doctor.” “Kaylee needs him more,” Zoë said, hunching down and making herself even more imposing. “What did you do to her?” “I didn’ –” “You did something,” Zoë said sharply, spiking the pain in his head to new told heights. “Something to send her running out of that shuttle in blind terror, something that made her think falling down a flight of stairs would be better then being with you for another second. What did you do?” “I don’t know,” Drake said. “We were laughing, having a good time. She freaked.” “She freaked?” Zoë said, turning to look up at her husband. “That sound logical to you, Wash?” “Kaylee is pretty much slave to her emotions,” Wash said nodding. “But I’ve never known her emotions to be unreasonable.” “What did you do?” Zoë asked again, turning back to Drake with frightening intensity. “Nothin’,” the boy insisted. “We were just . . . girl must be a real prude or somethin’, I don’t know. She’s leadin’ me on, we’re talkin’ all sexy and as soon as things get physical she freaks. She’s a basket case!” “Wash,” Zoë said, turning to look at him again. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” “I don’t want to be,” Wash said. “Maybe we should talk to Kaylee.” “You kiddin’?” Drake said as loudly as he could so that Wash was sure to hear. “Girl’s’ll lie about that sort—” He was interrupted suddenly by a quick jab to the face. “Ahhh,” he screamed. Incredible as it was, his head suddenly hurt more. “I t’ink you broke my nose.” “I think you’re getting off this ship now,” Zoë said. “Sober or not.” “I need a docdor.” “Wash,” she said, grabbing his arm. Her husband quickly came and grabbed his other arm. Together they lifted him up and started dragging him towards the hatch. “Didn’ you hear me, I need a docdor!” “Well it’s a good thing you’re so rich then, isn’t it?” Wash asked. “You can catch at taxi to the best ER in town and get top notch treatment.” They reached the hatch, which had been open a crack, filling the cargo bay with the light of a Shinon sunrise. Drake didn’t notice it, but he figured someone must have pushed a button or something, because the hatch started lowering. “Despite my husband’s bitter tone,” Zoë told him loudly so she could be heard over the moan of the machinery. “I want you to understand this has nothin’ to do with your money, your folks, your upbringing or your job.” “That’s right,” Wash said. “This is entirely personal.” “You are scum,” Zoë said. The hatch was mostly lowered and she and Wash started dragging him down it. “And our ship, and our crew, is too good to be sullied by the likes of you. I ever so much as see you’re pretty face again, I just might take my rifle and blow it off your head. Understand?” “I didn’ do nothin’!” Drake insisted. “Understand?” Zoë said, tightening her grip on his arm. “God, yes!” Drake said. “I jus’ wand away from you crazy people!” “You’re wish,” Wash said and then both he and his wife pushed Drake as hard as they could down the ramp. He hit the mettle ramp hard and couldn’t stop himself from rolling. When he was finally able to orient himself he found he was at the bottom of the ramp, coughing in the dry dust and squinting in the intolerably bright light. “Disposing of the trash?” A voice Drake recognized to be Shimon, the doctor’s called from what seemed like miles away. “Unless you can think of any reason not to,” Zoë called, her voice all so seemed far, far away. Drake felt a strong hand grab his shoulder and he was suddenly shifted so that he was facing the sun. The dark form of Shimon was looming menacingly over him. “Wha’r ya gonna do?” “How many fingers do you see?” the doctor demanded coldly, holding up three digits. “Three,” Drake managed to say. “And what’s four times five?” “Dwendy,” Drake answered. “Did I get the finger question righd?” “Let’s look at you’re wound,” the doctor said, reaching over and touching a very, very painful spot right under his left ear. Drake couldn’t keep himself from screaming in pain. “It looks clean. No nerve damage, not concussed, I think you’ll live,” the doctor said, standing up. “Although, if I were you, I’d go somewhere cool and get something to drink. It’s very easy to become dehydrated under this sun.” And with that the doctor walked away, and the agonizingly loud sound of the ship’s hatch being lifted and all its happy little crewmembers being sealed in. Drake lay in the sun for a moment, overcome with pain and confusion. Then, finally, he managed to role over and push himself to first his knees, then his feet. He staggered away from Serenity, wishing he’d left the bitchy little girl to be mugged in that ally and hoping to take the doctors advice. A few good, stiff, drinks in a nice bar and, hopefully, he’d be able to forget entirely the damned ship and its crew. * * * Simon, as silently as he could, slid the door to River’s room open and leaned his head in. What he saw made him smile. “I saw you close you’re eyes, Mei mei,” he said, stepping into the room and sitting at the foot of her bed. “You don’t have to pretend.” “No, I’m sleeping,” River insisted. “I’ll snore if I have to.” “Oh, well, then I’d have to steel you’re pillow and make you stop,” Simon said matter-of-factly. His comment was quickly retorted by River leaning forward and whapping her brother in the face with self-same pillow. Simon laughed and tried to grab the pillow, but River was too quick. She stuffed it behind her back and leaned on it, glaring at her brother, challenging him to get it away from her. Simon, however, wasn’t in the mood for a pillow fight, “Is there any reason you wanted me to think you were sleeping?” River’s defensive pose melted and she leaned against the wall behind her with the pillow as a cushion. “It’s what you expected.” “Ah,” he nodded, “I see.” “Saw Inara,” she prompted abruptly. Simon didn’t let the abruptness phase him. “I did. She sends her best wishes.” “It’s no fair that you can pretend and I can’t,” the girl pouted. Caught in his little lie, the doctor bowed his head, “I’m sorry,” he said, glancing at her sidelongly. “I probably should have left you to sleep. I just wanted to hear your voice.” “I could sing you something,” she offered. He turned to her and laughed, “No, thanks anyways.” “Kaylee’s not asleep either, you know,” River told him, again abruptly. “Really,” Simon asked. His palms seemed suddenly sweaty. “It’s hard to sleep when you’re hurting.” “She shouldn’t be in pain,” Simon said, a little concerned. “The dosage of hydrozepam I gave her --” “Not that kind of hurting,” River told him. “Oh,” Simon said, turning to look at his hands. There was a pause as Simon thought of how he’d treated Kaylee. He’d meant everything he’d said, but expressing those thoughts after she’d been accosted by someone she saw as a savior and, as a result, suffered serious injures, might not have been the wisest or kindest thing to do. It accrued to him that Kaylee had probably felt the same sting of betrayal and inadequacy as he had when Inara laid, quite truthfully, his own shortcomings bear and denounced him as a hypocrite. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but intentions are worthless when compared to actions, and his actions towards Kaylee in the last week fell far short of what he intended. “It’s funny,” River said, pulling Simon out of his morose introspections. “Some things you can’t stop. If we’re not afraid of losing diamonds, they turn into rocks no one wants to keep.” Simon had no idea what she was talking about, so he smiled at her in his I’ll-always-love-you way. Inara may have been right, he may have been keeping himself from loving Kaylee, and he may have been allowing Jayne to be meaner then reasonable, and he may have been accepting Mal’s jabs at his character and his upbringing without protest, but she was wrong about his race being dangerous. He loved River, and that put everything in perspective. River made everything worth it. “We’re the same, you know,” she said. “You and Kaylee?” Simon asked. “No,” River said, shaking her head. “Yes but no. We’re the same.” “You and I?” “You won’t let me get lost in the fog,” River said earnestly. “You won’t let go of my hand.” “No, I won’t.” “But I don’t want you to get lost either,” the girl said. “You don’t want me to disappear into gray mist, but sometimes I’m afraid you’re forgetting that you’re solid.” She looked truly afraid and there were tears in her eyes. “I can share my diamond with the light, it makes it sparkle. But diamonds are lost in the darkness, lost forever and I sometimes get scared that the darkness is starting inside and working its way out.” “Shh,” Simon soothed, reaching out and pulling her into a hug. As usual, he wasn’t quite sure how to comfort her because he wasn’t sure what she was afraid off. The fog metaphor had been fairly easy to understand, but then she’d slipped back to diamonds, which he hadn’t really figured out to begin with. He decided to stick with the metaphor he understood, “I’ll never, never let go of you’re hand, River, I won’t let you be lost.” “And I don’t want to lose you,” River said, pushing away from her brother very seriously. “Please don’t think the light isn’t good just because I’m in the haze.” “River,” Simon said, shaking his head. “I don’t . . .” “Inara was right,” his sister insisted frankly. “Even if she was cruel, she was right.” “What are you . . .?” he said, his uncertainty turning into subtle fear. “You can’t just love me,” River said. “I’m not enough.” “No,” Simon started, “That’s not--” “It is true,” River interjected before her brother could finish his sentence. “If I’m the only hand you hold, we’ll just be lost together. It’ll be dark and there’ll be no light and you won’t shimmer and then I’ll lose you. You could find me, but I won’t be able to find you because my eyes don’t work.” Simon hated seeing her so distraught and so afraid. And, like most obsessive compulsive fears, denying its validity would only strengthen the frightened person’s conviction. Simon would have to calm her some other way. This whole conversation seemed to spin out of the fact Kaylee was awake, and was hurt because he’d yelled at her. Feeling he was making a jump in logic, Simon asked, “Do you want me to go make up with Kaylee?” Relief washed over River’s pretty features, “I want you to sparkle.” Simon nodded and favored his sister with a smile, “You know, I’ll always love you first.” River smiled back. She looked just like she did as a child when she’d won a close game of checkers or beat him in a foot race, proud and victorious, despite the fact that they both knew it had never really been a fair competition, he would always let her win. “I know.” * * * “Tarun,” Fermin said happily as a younger man carrying a large black duffel bag approached their cell. It was about 6 a.m. and, by this time, Mal, Jayne, and the Pimp had formed a deep bond of comradely. The drunk was still snoring in the back corner of the cell, but the two teenagers had been picked up hours ago and the three men had used their relative privacy to plot and scheme. Mal was loving it. “Hey,” the boy said. There was a guard just behind him. “I paid you’re bail.” “Great,” Fermin said, nodding, “Good boy, and did you call Kris?” “Yeah, she’s ecstatic,” Tarun said, stepping aside so the guard could unlock the cell door to let the pimp out. “I brought everything, just like you told me.” “Kay, great,” Fermin said, as the door swung open. “It was a real pleasure,” the pimp told the two pirates. “It was indeed,” Mal said, nodding and smiling, “We’ll have to keep in touch.” “Guard,” Fermin said, once he was out of the cell. “Would you see to it that this bag,” he turned to Tarun, “Give me the bag,” it was handed over. “This bag makes its way into my good friends’ possession?” “This bag?” the guard said, taking it from Fermin and unzipping it to examine the contents. “Why?” “I made a bet with my friends here, which I lost,” Fermin said, motioning to Tarun, who gave his cosine a shiny platinum coin. “And I pay my debts.” “You pay in condoms?” the guard asked skeptically, pulling a thin square package out of the bag. “It’s what they wanted,” Fermin insisted smoothly. “And perfectly legal.” “We’re quite virile,” Mal said with absolute seriousness. “And we like humppin’ too,” Jayne said, snickering. “Can’t be too careful,” Fermin said. “Fine,” the guard said, zipping up the bag without putting the condom he’d taken out back. He grabbed the platinum piece and, turning to Mal, said. “This’ll be with you’re stuff when you’re released.” Mal smiled, “Thank you kindly.” The guard nodded and, giving the two remaining prisoners one last sidelong glance, turned to escort the pimp and his boy out of the jail and back into freedom. * * * The hatch to Kaylee’s bedroom opened, creaking loudly and letting the light from the hallway stream in. Kaylee’s heart quickened with anticipation. She hoped desperately that it was Simon coming to talk with her but, on the other hand, she also hoped desperately that it was someone else. She wanted it to be Simon with his gentle touch and his soft voice and his sweet and sorrowful smile. She wanted, needed, to hear him say she forgave him. She’d imagined it a dozen times in the past hour or so. He’d touch her cheek, he’d stroke her hair, he’d kiss her forehead. In one particularly pleasant scenario, he didn’t stop kissing at the forehead. Everything would be forgiven and forgotten. It would be like the past day hadn’t happened. She hoped with all her heart that it was him at the top of the hatch, she couldn’t wait for the reconciliation to begin. But, on the other hand, she was terrified that it would be Simon, with his cold professionalism and slightly demeaning gaze. He’d take her pulse at the neck and shine a pen light into her eyes as talk about medication, using big words he knew she didn’t know, and not mention what had happened, no matter how much she begged him. While her imagination had favored the more pleasant scenes akin to a lover’s reunion, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the worst was more likely to happen. Feet appeared on the upper rungs of the ladder. They were men’s feet. Kaylee’s alarm clock told her it was too early for Mal or Jayne to be popping in to check up on her. It could have been Book, she thought. He might want to sit and pray with her or over her. Or maybe it was Wash, who’d come down to ask her a question about how she’d rewired the grav-thrusts. Or maybe it was Simon, who’d come down to check on her and forgive her. Or maybe it was the doctor, who’d come down to examine her and nothing else. A flash of red confirmed her hopes and fears. It was Simon with his med kit. Kaylee’s heart started beating even faster. In all her imagined scenes she’d been brash, bold and brave. Whether it was by bursting into tears at the very sight of him, being coy and flirtatious, or angry and demanding; she set the tone. She’d lead him to say what she wanted to hear, and he’d followed her, never veering form what she wanted him to do. But now that the moment had come, she knew unshakably that that would not be what happened. Her imagination had led her down a wrong path, there was no question about that, she’d known it even as she’d been day dreaming. She didn’t have the courage to take charge of the situation; she was too afraid that whatever she would say would make everything worse. Simon was half down the ladder and, in a second, would be there, to confirm her hopes or her fears. Whatever she was going to do, she would have to do immediately. She quickly closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. She heard his feet hit the deck and his voice ask, “Kaylee?” The mechanic literally bit her tongue. She listened as the doctor shuffled around in the darkness for a moment before finding the lights. Even with her eyes closed, the sudden change hurt her eyes, but, having set herself on the most cowardly course of action, she didn’t dare step off it. “Huh,” she heard Simon say, as if he was surprised by something. Then there were the soft sounds of him walking, setting his med kit down on her table, and walking again. Suddenly, two cold fingers pressed against the right side of her neck, just under her jaw. Involuntary shivers flew through her body and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Huh,” Simon said again, and he removed his fingers from her neck. For a matter of heartbeats that felt like a mater of hours, Kaylee wondered if she’d given herself away. The bed sagged around her waist as the doctor sat down. “Your heartbeat is dangerously rapid for someone who’s asleep,” he said, apparently talking to himself. She strained to hear him over the cacophony of her own pounding heart. “But then, River told me you were awake, and she’s usually right about that sort of thing.” He paused, as if to give her a chance to confess. Kaylee debated for a moment whether or not to come clean, but by the time she’d decided to start talking, he’d beat her to it. “It’s funny, actually, because when I came in to see her she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.” he said, with a softer tone of voice, a very tender, very un-doctory tone of voice. “She thought I’d want her to be resting, but . . . but it . . . I just needed to see that she was all right.” His fingers touched her cheek, sliding across it’s arch, tugging at some stray hairs that were stuck in the moistness at the corner of her mouth and slipping them back to their place behind her ear. “I wish you were awake. I—I wish I could know you were all right as well.” It seemed fairly clear that Simon was going to be the boy of her dreams, not of her nightmares. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, turning slightly so she could look up at him. “I’m shinny,” she told him, her voice cracking a little. Simon was smiling down at her, slightly amused by her ruse, but not at all angry. “I’m glad.” “You gonna forgive me?” Kaylee asked. She could feel herself start to smile as she thought about what the answer would be. “I don’t know,” Simon said, his brow knitting. “That depends.” The beginnings of the girl’s smile vanished. “Depends?” “Will you forgive me?” Kaylee was sure she’d heard wrong. “Wha’you just say?” “I’m so sorry,” Simon told her, his eyes made it clear that he was utterly serious. She was utterly confused, “But, I was the one who . . .” “I’m sorry if, for a second, I made you think you deserved what Drake did to you,” Simon said. He was looking her right in the eyes, the intensity of his gaze took her breath away. She didn’t dare blink. “And I’m sorry if I made you doubt that I’d forgive you. And I’m sorry that I didn’t comfort you when you were crying, tonight and this whole week. I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t care for you and I’m sorry that I ever kept secrets from you because,” he faltered and looked away. Kaylee ignored her back’s scream of protest and leaned forward a little so she could see his face as he said. “Because, if there’s ever been anyone I’ve wanted to share secrets with, it’s you.” He turned back to look at her. His eyes were so soft and pleading, Kaylee felt like she was going to cry. “Will you forgive me?” He asked. “Simon,” she said softly, reaching up towards him with her left hand. He smiled at her gesture and took her hand, holding it gently in both of his. “You don’ have ta ‘pologize.” “I want to,” Simon said. “I want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you in any way.” Kaylee’s lungs suddenly seemed to constrict and her eyes were filled with tears and, it seemed her very heart hurt. “I’m so sorry,” Kaylee said, fighting back tears. “I was stupid and wrong and horrible and I’m sorry.” “I know,” Simon said lightly, smiling down at her with almost saintly forgiveness. “We went through this earlier. Its officially morning and I forgive you.” “But, you shouldn’t,” she insisted. His only response was the beginning of a peevish look encroaching on his forgiveness. “I give up on you so easy,” she told him. “You got a hard ‘nuff life and I just keep makin’ it harder by gettin’ jealous and gettin’ worried when there’s nothing going on. I get so frustrated and so afraid.” “Afraid?” Simon asked. “I wanna take you apart,” Kaylee continued. “Like an engine, I wanna see what goes where, what drives ya, what makes ya tick. I wanna see if maybe you’d run a little better if I was plugged in.” “Plugged in?” Simon asked with a chuckle. Kaylee realized she was probably sounding a lot like River at the moment, babbling on about something she considered of the utmost importance, but was utterly indecipherable to anyone else. “I just wanna know what’s behind those pretty blue eyes,” Kaylee said with a sniffle. “You get all closed up and, and I understand why, but I just wish I knew how to open you, even a crack. ‘Cause bein’ closed ain’t good. I get worried, and I get lonely, and . . . and desperate, then, try to force you open. Then, I think, we both get kinda hurt.” The doctor nodded, the whimsy was gone from his face as he thought about what he said. “I keep my secrets close,” he finally said. “I don’t want to let go of them.” “Wha’da’ya think would happen if you let them go?” Kaylee asked. Simon sighed, “Well,” he said. “I suppose it depends on the secret.” “Well,” Kaylee said. “Why don’t you let just a little one slip and—and we can see what happens.” “I did tell you I was sorry for keeping them from you, didn’t I?” “Ya did.” “And, really, the only way to prove that would-- would be to tell you.” “I’m all ears,” Kaylee said, smiling supportively up at the doctor and squeezing his hand, as best she could, with her bandaged one. Simon nodded and looked at her wordlessly for a moment. Kaylee started to feel uneasy under his soft steady stair. “What?” she finally asked. “What is it?” “I, ah,” he started nervously. “I want to, ah, to, um . . .” “You want too . . .” Kaylee prompted. “To, ah,” Simon said, swallowing. He looked terrified, Kaylee couldn’t imagine the prim, appropriate, doctor ever having any desires he needed to be that ashamed off. He took a deep breath and looked at her apologetically. “To kiss . . . kiss you.” “You wanna kiss me?” Kaylee asked, excitement hedging her voice. “I,” Simon quickly started to explain, “I know we’ve kissed before, on Canton, but, that just . . . I want . . .” He turned to looked at her, “I want to kiss you and mean it.” “Didn’t mean it on Canton?” Kaylee asked. “No, that’s not . . .” Simon said, shaking his head. “What I mean is that, when I kiss you, I want my intentions to be clear.” “And what would those intentions be?” Simon laughed dryly, “This is more complicated then I thought it’d be.” “Well,” Kaylee said, chuckling. “How ‘bout if you tell me how long you been keepin’ this secret? Would that be any easier?” “Oh,” Simon said, sighing. He turned his gaze up to the ceiling. She imagined he was calculating months, weeks, days, hours, minute’s and, maybe, even seconds. “For a long time,” he finally answered. “Probably, since the first time we shared a cup of tea.” “When was that?” Kaylee asked, bewildered. She’d brought him tea in the infirmary hundreds of times, and he’d brought her tea in the engine room, and they’d had tea together in the commons room and kitchen and even the cargo bay once or twice. But, for the life of her, she couldn’t remember the first time. “About three weeks after we came on board, after the train job, before the reaver ship.” “Kay,” the girl said, trying very hard to remember an event that obviously was so memorable to the doctor. “It was early in the morning,” Simon told her. “Probably about two a.m. and River had been having night terrors fairly regularly, so she didn’t want to go to bed. She was finally settled in and I was exhausted but not really tried, you know, and so I went up to the kitchen to make some tea and just unwind and I found you there, curled up in a chair and blanket, reading.” “Oh,” Kaylee said, slowly remembering. “Yeah, that was that book ‘Nara lent me. Got so lost up in it, didn’t even know what time it was.” “Yeah,” Simon nodded. “But . . . but you put it down. You sat and talked to me. You asked me how River was, you asked how I was.” Kaylee only vaguely remembered their chat, but she remembered the book very well. It had been a hot one, a pirate adventure of earth-that-was full of swordplay and chases and abductions and sex. Lots and lots of sex. Kaylee had started to casually read it after dinner and the thrill of it had consumed her; she couldn’t put it down. Then, when Simon had come in, he’d asked her not to stop reading on his account. But he’d looked so haggard and worn, gray as a ghost and shivering, ever so slightly, from too little sleep, she just couldn’t ignore him They’d sat and they’d talked for about twenty minutes, just enough time to make tea and then drink it. Simon said next to nothing, taking mostly about River and her troubles, and then he’d apologized for boring her. She tried to cheer him up, she told him funny stories, the best ones she knew, and she told him stories of the captain’s bravery, insisting that everything would always be fine, and she told him stories about herself, and how hard it was the first few months she was away from home. She told him everything she could think of to make him feel better and only once or twice did he smile sadly and say something like ‘thanks, that’s nice to know.’ Never, in a million years, would she have dreamed he was thinking about kissing her. She would have sworn that, for him the night was even more forgettable than it had been for her. “It meant a lot to me,” Simon continued, still starring at her ceiling. “I loved, do love, River, but she needs so much and there’s only so much of me I can give. I was empty, hollow. And it was made worse because everything seemed so uncertain, I was afraid Mal would throw me out the air-lock for saying the wrong thing or that agent Dobbs would somehow still be alive and track us down or reavers would come out of nowhere and invaded the ship. But just listening to you talk about things, normal things, share stories, over a cup of tea; it was wholesome and good and . . .” he turned and looked at her. His eyes caught hers and they were so intense, so sincere, so overwhelmingly grateful that she didn’t dare blink. Apparently, he was as taken by her eyes as she was by his, because it to him a moment to finish, “And it filled me up.” “I never knew,” Kaylee said softly. “Of course not,” Simon said, still gazing into her eyes. “It was a secret.” He was lost, she could tell. She wondered if he could see her soul; she hoped he did. “Secrets out,” she said, practically whispering. “No reason ta . . . ta hesitate.” “I thought,” he said, turning to look at his hands, which still had hers sandwiched between them. “After all that happened tonight . . . ” “What?” Kaylee asked, truly bewildered. She wanted Simon to kiss her desperately; she couldn’t imagine why the doctor was not as eager. “I don’t want to take advantage,” Simon said, turning back to her. When their eyes meet words seemed to become less and less necessary. “I don’t want to hurt you.” “Well,” Kaylee said after a moment. She could barely think about anything more then his eyes, and his hands holding hers, and the phantom touch of his lips on hers. “I could kiss you, maybe.” “That might work,” Simon said, his right hand slipping out from under hers as he started to lean forward. “Thing is,” Kaylee said, never glancing away from his stormful blue eyes. “Can’t really sit up.” “That is a problem,” he said, his face was only inches away from hers. His breath made her skin tingle and his hand entwined itself in her hair, his thumb tracing the crescent of her ear. “What’cha’gonna do ‘bout it, doc?” Kaylee asked breathlessly. “Just this,” he said closing the short distance between them with a tender open-mouthed kiss. Kaylee closed her eyes and lifted her head slightly off the pillow to meet him. His hand slid under her head, supporting her. Kaylee had kissed a good number of men, and she’d felt many things in the process, from excitement to boredom, from pleasure to disgust. But never had a kiss made her feel the way this one did. As she sucked his breath in through her teeth and the tips of his fingers stroked the soft skin on the back of her earlobe, producing giggles of contentment deep in her throat, she wondered at how something could feel so safe and so daring at the same time. It felt like she was exploring a bizarre new world, where everything was an exciting discovery, but at the same time, it had all the security and comfort of being home on a rainy day. It was the merger of two opposites, and it made every other kiss seem shallow. When Simon pulled away, Kaylee didn’t have breath to protest. Her head swam and her heart pounded in her ears. She felt giddy, unsure what was up and what was down, like the grav-boosters had shorted out and she was floating. The only thing she could feel as solid were Simon’s hands, anchoring her, one cradling her head and the other still holding hers. “That was . . .” Kaylee said opening her eyes to find his. “I feel dizzy.” Simon laughed as his hand released her head to rest on her pillow and moved to caress the nape of her neck. “Not usually the effect a doctor wants to produce.” “No,” Kaylee insisted. “It was great. It was amazin’.” He smiled down at her. Kaylee realized that all she needed to be perfectly content for the rest of her life was the smile in his eyes, and the warmth of his voice, and feeling of his fingers playing on her skin. “Amazing,” he echoed, his voice full of wonder. “You always know just what to say.” * * * Inara hated what she had to do. She felt like someone was raking over her heart with not-quite-sharp bayonets. She’d lost two homes in the last day, and any friends she’d had she’d either hurt or left, and her pride was soon to be leveled to some place slightly below dust. The hatch lowered, slower then usual, Inara thought, and Zoë, looking about as tired as the companion had ever seen her, was standing resolutely at it’s axis, not stepping down to meet the companion. Inara could read body language well enough to know better then trying to walk up to her. “So,” Zoë called. “One night on this planet and you want to come back?” “Yes,” Inara said with as much dignity as she could muster. Zoë nodded and started sauntering down the hatch, “Lot can happen in a night, you know.” “So I hear,” Inara said. “Now,” Zoë continued. “I won’t go as far as to say that it’s you’re fault Cap’n and Jayne ended up in jail, or that Kaylee brought home a mo gui in fu yu shuia ge clothing, or that River nearly killed said man after he nearly killed Kaylee. None of that was you’re doing.” “And yet you feel the need to present me with a list.” “None of it was you’re doing,” Zoë said as she reached the edge of the hatch. She didn’t go down to meet Inara in the dust. “But you happen to be the cause of all of it.” “You’re a fair person, Zoë,” Inara said. “I can’t believe you really blame me.” “Mal’s gone, I’m in charge, which means I gotta think a what’s best for the crew.” “I crew which, a day ago, I was a part of,” Inara said. “You burned a lot of bridges,” Zoë said. “And not through carelessness neither. You worked hard to start those fires.” “I’m sorry.” Inara said earnestly. “Kaylee’ll hold onto hope until way past reasonable, and she gave up on you. Simon took flack for you this last week, and you sent him away as if he were the traitor.” “I made mistakes.” “And I think maybe you’ll have to live with them.” “So I’m not welcome,” Inara said, squaring her shoulders, feeling almost relived but, at the same time, absolutely terrified. “Far as I see it, no,” Zoë said. “Then I’ll leave,” Inara said. Far from relived, she felt crushed. It was one thing leaving on one’s own terms, it was another thing entirely to be left. “You ain’t welcome,” Zoë said again. “But we do have a shuttle to rent and we got no bidders.” “What are you saying?” Zoë took a step down, off the hatch, into the dust. “If you can tolerate us, we can tolerate you. As Jayne says nothing buys by-gones like cash. Mal won’t make it easy, but he won’t turn you away. Most of us will be glad to have you back. But those you hurt, you’re gonna have to find your own way to make peace with them.” “I can do that.” “Can you?” Zoë asked candidly. Inara took a deep breath, “I can try.” “Suppose that’s all you can do,” Zoë nodded. Then, with uncharacteristic sediment, she wrapped the companion in a sisterly hug. “It’ll be good to have you back.”

To Be Continued . . .