Part three of the Archer/defender82 collaboration. We hope it pleased the fans of Archer’s ghosts of Serenity series. The characters are ours, the universe belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Please do not archive without permission. Feel free to send comments our way, neither of us is particularly sensitive. Again, our thanks to Wulfhawk for his outstanding beta.

Chinese Glossary

mei li de li wu [beautiful gift] Gou zao de [This can't get any worse], Je shr shuh muh lan dong shi [What kind of rotten thing is this] wuh dhu pee-goo [My ass] lìngrén jingyì [amazing] xin gan [sweetheart] bao bei [precious jewel] nî hâo mêi [you're so beautiful]

PART THREE

As Kellerman walked through the dusty main street of town, a familiar voice yelled "Hey Kellerman!"

He turned to see Miloslaw trotting down the road after him, dodging past a slow-moving cart, a rifle slung over his shoulder. The new gold badge on his vest took some getting used to. Miloslaw had recently been deputized into the brand-new Lisskin Sheriff's Department. It was commonly understood that his job had rather more to do with military threats than with keeping the peace.

"Need to talk to you," Miloslaw said, slowing down as he caught up.

"I'm headed over to Caff's office. Can we do it in there?" Kellerman said with a conscious attempt at neutrality. Despite their shared service to the Alliance, he didn't trust the man any further than he could throw him, and he didn't much care for his seemingly close association to Cafferty. A man like Miloslaw tended to end up standing hip-deep in piles of dead bodies on a regular basis, and be damned if Kellerman's best buddy was going to be one of those corpses.

"Sure. Need to talk to him too,” Miloslaw said, and without any pretense of false pleasantries of the 'How-things-going-for-you?' variety, they continued side by side down the street towards the office where Cafferty's medical shingle adorned the wall with the simple announcement 'K. Cafferty, Practical Doctor of Medicine.' Engraved underneath was a whimsical message-- 'Bones set, babies delivered, teeth pulled.' Kellerman was proud of the sign, he’d carved it himself two winters ago.

Jake Matthews, eldest son of Hal Matthews, the first elected 'mayor' of Lisskin, was limping out of the office, putting his weight on a cane as he hobbled across the sidewalk. He'd taken one in the hip during the battle with the Reavers, and he'd carry the limp as his own red badge of courage for the rest of his life. He looked white-lipped with the effort of walking, having only been mobile for a matter of weeks. The boy turned and waited as the duo approached the office and politely tipped his hat at them.

"Mr. Kellerman, good afternoon, Mr. Miloslaw,” He nodded to both men, then continued to address himself exclusively to the bigger man "Been needin' to call on you folks, Mr. Kellerman. Pa put together few of the spare hands and some of the folks that got their harvest in already to try to get 'round to helpin' the folks what need a hand. We done finished up clearin' the Basilone place for John's widow. She's got three young-uns, one of them still at the breast, she hadn't been able to get any of her own harvest in. Figured we could get out your way next. Know you're stretched thin, what with your wife out of action."

Kellerman stopped and stared at the young man, surprised. He knew about the group Matthews had put together, but had assumed that the help would be going to the locals. He didn't think of himself as one of the locals, and until the Reaver attack, the locals had made it pretty clear that they didn't think of them as part of the town either. He figured they were on their own, he, Jian-ku, and Caff. He wouldn't have even included Miloslaw among those he could call on for help. He knew Yinna was only out there as a favor to Caff.

He was surprised and more than a little touched at this proof that they were starting to make a place for themselves. "That's... thanks, Jake! I don't know how I can repay you all for this." he said, sticking out his hand. The young rancher took it in a firm grasp.

"Nothing to repay us for, sir. Your wife lost her hand saving what could be saved. I reckon y'all are as much a part of the town as a body can be." He nodded to include the new Deputy in the sentiment. Miloslaw stared woodenly past him into the distance, ignoring the gesture and simply waiting for the conversation to be finished.

"I understand that Miss Davens has been out there helpin' you'n the missus," Jake said with ill-concealed interest. Kellerman smiled. So there might be a personal reason for the Matthews boy to be glad of the chance to move on to clearing the Kellerman fields. Well, he wouldn't begrudge the boy a shot, but after spending several days with Yinna Davens, he doubted the boy was up to the weight.

"Yeah, she's been a real help. Girl knows her way around a farm better than I do,” Kellerman admitted honestly. Jake brightened up and tipped his hat at the two of them again. "I'd 'spect she does, Mr. Kellerman. Good day to you, sir." He nodded at Miloslaw as he hobbled off.

"Good kid," Miloslaw said, turning toward the door.

"Thought you and his old man didn't get along," Kellerman said curiously. Matthews made no effort to conceal his dislike of Miloslaw.

"We don't. But his son's a good trooper--was a good trooper" he amended, stepping into the office. "Old man would give him hell if he thought the boy was consorting with the likes of me," he said with a snort.

Cafferty was sitting at his desk, going over a treatment log as they walked through the door. He looked up and nodded at them, regarding Miloslaw and his rifle with unabashed curiosity.

"Hey guys, good to see you. What's with the rifle?" he asked, tilting his head to get a good look at it.

Miloslaw stepped forward and placed the rifle on the table. It was an older-model battle rifle, scoped and obviously painstakingly maintained. Other than a few scratches on the black synthetic stock, it was probably cleaner than the day it had been manufactured. Miloslaw slid the bolt back and locked it in place.

"Quen-Farraday model 43A6 JKN battle rifle, modified, Caliber 7.4 millimeter, standardized for center-fire ammunition but also capable of modification for use of caseless ammunition." He recited as if reading directly from the manual.

"Now then," he said, looking at them to see if they were catching the import of what he was saying. Satisfied he had their rapt attention, he continued, "The A6 model is a generic platform, capable of conversion to multiple specializations, including a mounting rail for an underslung 1cm Baranen grenade launcher, or undermount UV ranging and targeting laser for sniping work."

Kellerman looked up from the rifle at Miloslaw, "Sniper rifle?" he asked quickly, stepping around to get a better look at it. He had a natural tinkerer's mindset, and he was wondering if Miloslaw was thinking what he was thinking.

Staring at the rifle, Miloslaw continued his oratory on the virtues of the rifle. "The modified A6 was the weapon of choice for Browncoat snipers during the war, due to its rugged design, excellent inherent accuracy and high muzzle velocity." He paused and pulled a pair of folded sheets of paper out of his vest.

"With a few modifications the frame of the weapon can be made to function properly in conjunction with a standard-issue prosthetic device of the Grade-II variety." He unfolded the sheets, which bore rough, hand-drawn sketches of his proposal, he looked at his rapt audience and added parenthetically, "I talked to Oz Fewlin, and he said he can do the job."

"How did you know she was getting a Grade-II?" Kellerman asked, then mentally slapped himself for being slow. Cafferty, of course.

"I told him," Cafferty confirmed. "This is good--very good." He picked up the diagrams and looked them over, then handed them on to Kellerman.

"So..." Kellerman studied the papers, his eyes skating back to the rifle. "Why?" he finally said. Miloslaw looked at him with those cold gray eyes of his.

"Because I know how I'd feel in similar circumstances. Look, she might be your wife, but she was ten years a sniper. She isn't going to hide in the bank if the Reavers hit us again. If it was me I would do whatever it took to be of some use in a firefight again, or I'd be . . . gone." Miloslaw answered flatly.

"I don't know . . . we can't afford to pay for this," Kellerman said reluctantly. It had been a day for gifts from heaven. He wanted this for Jian-ku but sometimes wanting wasn't enough, sometimes a person had to walk away.

"It didn't cost me anything." Miloslaw offered him a predatory smile. "Some people should be legally restrained from playing poker. There's always a sucker in the ‘verse willing to draw to an inside straight."

"Thank God, for his manifold mercies," Cafferty intoned piously, tongue planted firmly in his cheek.

"Still, this thing has got to be worth a fair piece of change,” began Kellerman stubbornly. Miloslaw cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Just invite me over for Christmas dinner and we'll call it even," the man said dismissively.

"Done!" Kellerman said impulsively. He saw a brief look of surprise flash on the other man's face. He had been surprised Miloslaw had gone to the trouble he had over the rifle and Miloslaw was surprised he'd been invited without hesitation. Even a gift this generous couldn't break down long-built barriers between them, Kellerman thought ruefully. But it was a grand first step.

"Anyway, you're welcome, or whatever," Miloslaw said, recovering from his momentary lapse. "I've got work to do. See you later, Kellerman, you too Kevin." He made his way out the door without any further ceremony.

Kellerman settled into the chair across from the desk, still somewhat thunderstruck.

"Well," Cafferty started, looking surprised himself.

"Yeah," Kellerman answered, scratching his head. "That was damned spooky. Not that I'm complaining or anything."

"He's like that. You know those Special Forces types. Mislead, mystify, and confuse. So how is Jia doing?" Cafferty said. He picked up the rifle and carried it over to Kellerman.

"She's doing-- well, to be honest Caff, we got a problem. I mean, I think the arm's helpin' her out and all, but..." Kellerman accepted the rifle and shifted it to a comfortable grip in his hands, sliding the bolt home. The big man was obviously at a loss for words, his ears were turning red with embarrassment as he cast about for a way to say what he'd come to say.

"See, she won't . . . . I still want to . . . still have feelings for her, Gou zao de, we haven't--man, we haven't grappled in months!" He finished in a rush. "Normally, well, let me tell you buddy..." he paused, a smiling weakly. "But it seems like since the battle, she doesn't want me to touch her . . . or even see her. Hell she won't even dress if I'm in the room! What's that about for Christ's sake? We been doing it for years, not like I ain't seen her before."

Cafferty nodded understandingly, looking at him soberly.

"What?" Kellerman demanded. Drumming his fingers on the desk, Cafferty took a breath as he framed his thoughts.

"Comes back to what Yinna said," Cafferty stated carefully. "Buddy, you may have to wait for her to come to you." He continued after a moment, "when the two of you first starting... grappling...Back during the war. That was usually after a big show. I remember." Kellerman nodded, waiting for Caff to make his point. "The thing is everyone was so damn relieved to survive, it was like the sex was the best way to prove that to themselves."

"Yeah," Kellerman nodded in comprehension, adding "that was where we started. Back in the good old days, we'd have a big blow-out and then get some serious wild goin' on, y'know? But it was never just about that, well except at the very beginning. But now, she waves me off, whenever I even try to get close."

Looking up to see how he would take it, Cafferty finished his interrupted thought "the thing is, Jian isn't sure she did survive. Not like she used to be, anyway. And she sure as shit don't feel desirable."

"Je shr shuh muh lan dong shi? I swear to God, Caff that woman gave me the tingles just to look at since the first time I laid eyes on her and she still does. What am I supposed to do? Man can only tie a knot in it so long." He sighed in frustration. "I still feel the same."

Cafferty grimaced at the imagery. "Not much to be done here, sorry to say. I don't think she'd take me seriously if I prescribed a long afternoon's worth of rutting as a treatment."

"Oh god, I wish you could," was Kellerman’s heart-felt response.

Kellerman watched Cafferty return to his desk, wondering briefly how his buddy could stand it, going so long without. He damn sure wasn't pitching to the Davens girl,that much was clear. They'd been on Rosie for nearly four years and as far as he knew Cafferty had never hooked up with anybody in all that time, for whatever feeble-minded noble-sounding reasons Cafferty was capable of tying himself up with. Man might as well be a monk for all the action he was getting.

'Well,' he thought mutinously, 'I didn't marry the hottest firecracker in the service to be a monk!' _________________________________________________

Much to Jake Matthew's disappointment, Yinna took the arrival of the harvesters as her signal to get away from gathering corn and back to the doctor's office. Yinna hugged her on the porch as Jian-ku fiercely clapped her on the back. “You mind what I said, Missus! That man loves you, don’t be doing nothing to ruin both your lives, ya hear me?”

“I’ll think on it.” Was the only reply the older woman would give. Jian stood on the porch and watched perhaps the only female friend she’d ever had as she mounted up capably and swung the horse around to head back to town. Calling after her at the last minute “Don’t forget what I said either!” Yinna smiled at her and raised a hand in farewell as she rode off.

With a group of able hands pitching in, the rest of the harvest proceeded smoothly. Kellerman worked contentedly along side the other farmers and learned that the camaraderie of the land was not so very different from that of the army. They cleared the entire corn crop in three days and helped Jian-ku get in the kitchen garden as well. Kellerman went on to help the harvesters with the next farm and Kenji Mifune had promised his wife would come over in a day or two and help show Jian how to can the produce. The Kellerman farm would turn the first profit in its short history, and an excellent growing season did not go to waste. _________________________________________________

Jian-ku sat with Yinna at the bar, feeling extravagant for having purchased dinner. Steven had made the payment on the note today with the profit from the feed sales. They weren't out from underneath the bank by any stretch, but they were coming out of the fall with the debt-load shrinking instead of growing. The produce was canned, the corncrib was full, and they were as snug as they could be awaiting the onset of winter. She still marveled at the way the townies had rallied to help them. She supposed she couldn’t call them townies anymore. If she stayed, she would just have to get used to calling them her neighbors

"So what are you thinking about doing, out there, in the Black?" Jian-ku said over a sip of beer. "You've worked enough with Caff to probably make a passable medic, and that's salable just about anywhere you go, outside of the Core."

Yinna took a drink, her eyes staring out past Jian-ku to the cheezy decorations on the wall. "Been thinkin' about that, Jian. I'm figurin' that if'n I got to earn my bunk with bandages, I can do that. But I don't think I want to do it for a livin', y'know? Folks like Kevin, they're born healers, can't be nothin' but.”

She paused to stare meditatively into the bottom of her glass. “But for me, I'm thinkin', I don't know, flyin' maybe, or fixin'. I got a head for math, Papa always used to say. But you got to get into a school to do that. Got some cash left behind from..." she paused and glanced around. "Well, papa had hisself some serious under-the-table type stuff. I ain't hurtin' for cash. Savin' every coin I get from workin' for Kevin, got a good price for sellin' the ranch..." She trailed off without finishing her thought, looking pained. Even if she hadn't planned to work it herself, selling the family homestead had been a hard thing.

Jian-ku shrugged. "Flying's fine, I suppose. Have you looked into what it'd take to get into flight school?"

Yinna nodded. "Most of 'em take sponsorships. Lotta pilots lookin' for work now that the war's done with. Hard to hook up there. Little better for engineers and systems specialists. Figure another year workin' for the doc, I'll have enough to cover the trip, tuition, and livin', long as I live cheap."

"Sounds like you've got this planned out," Jian-ku said.

"Jian, I ain't thought 'bout much other'n that. I gotta get off planet before some nice boy like Jake Matthews sees nothing but a face and a dowry and wears me down.”

Jian-ku smiled grimly, “You don’t strike me as the kind to be ground down. Hard as diamonds, you are girl. Well you’ll need to be, on your own in the ‘verse.”

“You were younger than me when you joined up, weren’t you?”

“Nineteen when I enlisted. Went into boot camp thinking I had something to prove, came out satisfied I had.”

“Was it hard?”

“I thought so at the time, now not so much.”

“Did it make it harder to be a woman in an army of men?”

“Well,” she said dryly, “it made them harder.”

Yinna’s lips twitched. “And I’ll bet that made it easier.”

Their laughter got them odd looks from the other patrons who weren’t used to a couple of women sitting and drinking at the bar.

“You may find that the getting out is not the only hard part. I know Rosie’s more traditional than a lot of more industrial planets. Thing is you weren’t wrong about folks not looking past the wrapper. Someone giving you a billet on a ship might be expecting services you aren’t willing to provide.” She paused to eye the younger woman speculatively. “Can I give you some advice?” She asked diffidently. Adding with a sly look, “After all, you gave me some.”

Yinna looked at her seriously. “I’d welcome any advice coming from you, Jian.”

“Lose the dresses. No matter how plain or modest, they say ‘there’s some things I can’t do’. Cut your hair or pull it back. Buy some plain dark pants all the same color. Same with shirts. Buy some heavy boots. Always wear the same thing, get as close to a uniform as you can. Whatever you pick should shout ‘Don’t touch, I can take care of myself and there’s nothing I can’t do’-- Can you shoot at all?” “Well I can use a rifle but I’m not a great marksman.”

“Well honey, there’s nothing that says ‘touch me not’ like a gal packing a real weapon. Didn’t I see you with your daddy’s Hirsch 454? You dig that up and bring it out by our place and I’ll give you some pointers--Don’t wear it until you know what you’re doing, though.” she cautioned.

“Get a Buck knife and wear it in a sheath at your belt. Anyone asks, say you use it for cutting bandages.” She smiled reminiscently. “I always said I used mine to trim my toenails.” ________________________________________________

Oswald Fewlin, Oz to the locals, was the town's gunsmith. He felt that he occupied roughly the same social strata as the town's doctor. As the man responsible for keeping people's weaponry functional, he considered himself above such petty matters as complying with the local custom of courtly manners. His generic appellation for any person he met, from Mayor Matthews on down, was 'You.' or 'Hey, you.' His apprentice, Tyler Christian, was 'Boy.' or 'Gorram BOY!' depending on the perceived quality of his performance and Oz’s mood.

Kellerman had made a special trip in to town to pick up the rifle. He told Jian he was coming in to get Cafferty and Yinna in the wagon for the special harvest dinner celebration they had promised them. Jian had stayed home to struggle with the meal preparations. It hadn’t occurred to him until that morning, but he had another reason for wanting the rifle.

When Kellerman and Cafferty climbed the stairs to his office, Oz was engrossed in mounting a scope on a hunting rifle. He ignored them as he tightened the screws for two or three minutes, before finally stopping and looking over at them.

"You're here for the rifle," he said without preamble. "HEY BOY, git the Kellerman rifle!" Tyler moved around downstairs for a moment before trotting up the stairs, rifle in his hands. Oz accepted it and looked it over for the moment before nodding at his apprentice.

"Damn purplebelly," he growled, referring to Miloslaw, "Can't draw worth a damn. Figured it out though, improved on it too. Got your gorram rifle, fixed and tuned up better'n anybody else on the ruttin' planet'll do for you," he concluded, glaring a challenge at them. After a moment's pause, he reluctantly added, “Damn purplebelly does keep his guns in good shape."

"Thank you, Mr. Fewlin,” Kellerman said cheerfully, admiring the rifle. Cafferty was less enthusiastic. He'd treated too many wounds caused by that particular model.

"Whatever. Rest of my money is comin' to me,” he said. Kellerman drew a couple of coins from his pocket and put them on the table. The gunsmith stared at the coins for a moment before reluctantly surrendering the rifle.

"A6 was a good model. They don't make 'em like that no more, good'n'solid,” he said. Shaking his head, he returned to working on the scope, dismissing them without a word. _________________________________________________

"Can't believe I almost forgot our anniversary, there’d be no livin’ with her then, sure as hell it’d be wuh dhu pee-goo, " Kellerman said as they walked along the road toward the farm. "Four years now, lungrén jingi . Seems like yesterday that the Fleet Chaplain was talking about 'having and holding.' Damn."

"We were on Cultan, at the de-mob center," Cafferty filled in for Yinna. "I didn't acquit myself well."

"What happened?" she asked, looking at them quizzically as Kellerman snickered.

"Good old steady-fingers here dropped the gorram ring,” Kellerman said, laughing. "Dropped it so that it rolled under this pew, and it took us near to five minutes to finally track it down. All of us, him, me, her, even the Chaplain, crawling around on the floor trying to find it, Caff apologizing over and over, the Chaplain trying to calm him down, finally Jia just tells him to shut up," Kellerman's laughter kept getting louder and louder as he related the story. "Gorram, I'd actually forgotten about that. Well, you don't really forget somethin' like that, but you get to where you don't laugh about it every couple of days."

"You're red as a beet, Kevin," Yinna observed, laughing. Cafferty just shrugged and looked straight ahead in a desperate attempt to maintain a little dignity.

As they rounded the bend toward the farm, Kellerman stopped for a moment, adjusting Jian-ku's rifle on his shoulder. "Just a sec," he said, staring at the field.

Scattered among the dying vegetation were a few Bettlerweeds, a breed that had been introduced back in the terraforming days as a precursor to bind oxygen in the atmosphere. They were a hardy breed of weed, one that flowered year-round, but they were supposed to have a built-in generational limit that killed them off in time to be supplanted by more desirable forms of vegetation from Earth-that-was. Naturally, a few mutant varieties had managed to survive, if not thrive, after the terraforming was complete. Terraforming specialists swore vehemently that they would die out entirely in the next fifty years, for what that was worth.

Kellerman strolled out into the field and crouched down, unslinging the rifle and setting the butt on the ground. With his free hand, he plucked one of the cheerful orange flowers and inserted the stem in the barrel of the rifle. "A flower for the Flower," he said cheerfully, then catching sight of their astonished looks, asked in an injured tone, "What? Guy gets a flower for his wife. Nothin' weird about that." _________________________________________________

Dinner was a festive affair, Yinna had helped with the cooking and with all the fresh produce it was a feast. Cafferty was heartened to see Jian-ku in good spirits. They had Kellerman’s famous homebrew, enough to be liberating, without being incapacitating. It was a long walk back and Caff and Yinna didn’t plan to stay the night. Iwas the Kellerman’s anniversary and it was a small house and all. They'd laughed, they'd talked, they'd had a bit too much to drink and told a few too many embarrassing stories at his expense for his taste, but he was a good sport about the whole thing.

The look on Jian’s face when Kellerman presented her with the rifle was priceless. He seldom saw the soft side of her, he assumed that Kellerman did, but as she looked from the rifle to her husband her eyes misted over and he could see the girl she must have been once, the girl her husband must still see when he looked at her. It seemed to Cafferty that the flower was the gift that really moved her the most. She'd pulled it out, stared at it for a moment before sticking it behind her ear and wrapping her natural arm around Kellerman's neck in a hug so complete she looked like she’d melt into the big man. Yinna had nodded at him knowingly, trying to tell him something wordlessly, he wasn’t sure what.

After dinner as the twilight deepened into a soft moonlit dark, Yinna caught Caff’s eye and looked meaningfully towards the door. It seemed to Cafferty that Jian-ku might be ready to make the long-awaited move in her husband’s direction. It would be as much as his life was worth to interfere with that, he thought with a silent laugh, so he decided it was time to give them a bit of privacy. He cleared his throat.

"Uh, guys, hate to break this up, best dinner I’ve had in a long time, but I’ve got office hours early and it’s not a short walk back . . . ”

Yinna grinned at him as she said, “If you’d learn to ride a horse, you wouldn’t have to walk.”

He dipped his head in momentary embarrassment, then met her eye. “I guess I’ll have to let you teach me to ride, then.” he said, unaware of the obvious innuendo. Yinna and Jian-ku met each other’s eyes and broke into giggles, while Kellerman grinned at him.

When he realized the connotation he said good naturedly, “I hate to interrupt all this hilarity at my expense and all, but that thing I left here last week . . ." he said with a meaningful look. Kellerman looked up at him and nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, no prob. Got it right over here,” Kellerman moved with the surprising quickness that usually marked his movements to the cabinet. He pulled a heavy object wrapped in brown paper down from the top of the cabinet and handed it to Cafferty, who accepted it with a grin before he was lifted into a surprise hug that took his feet six inches off the ground.

"Thanks, Caff! You're the greatest! I ever tell ya how great a buddy you are?" Kellerman bellowed enthusiastically.

"Think so, time or two,” Cafferty managed to squeak out before Kellerman put him back down. Kellerman grasped his shoulders and shook him back and forth gently, beaming happily before releasing him. ________________________________________________

Jian-ku stood in the doorway looking out at the night as she waved Cafferty and Yinna off. Steven came up behind her and wrapped his great arms around her and held her for a moment. She leaned back into his arms and closed her eyes savoring the nearness of him and the peace of the moment. How could she ever leave this? Yinna was right.

“Happy anniversary, xin gan,” he murmured into her ear as he dropped his head to nuzzle her neck and begin to kiss her where her hair met her neck. She could feel his erection and began to panic. She stiffened and tried to pull away from this embrace, muttering something unintelligible. As she did, Steven tightened his hold on her and whispered with unaccustomed tenderness, “I think its time for this and past, Jia. I want you in my bed. I always did want you there, and nothing has changed that, nothing ever will.”

“It’s different now, I’m different. I wasn’t ever pretty, but now I’m not even whole,” she said with a catch in her voice. She was a small woman, he was a big man; he lifted her into his arms, kicked open the door and carried her through the house to their bed with no effort at all.

“You are my mei li de li wu,” he said huskily, as he set her down and bent to undo the buttons of her blouse. His kisses growing more demanding, more passionate, not gentle at all. Jian gave herself up to the kiss, then realized he had her shirt almost off her. She put her hands over his to stop him and pleaded, “Just let me do it, I don’t want you to see me, just give me a minute and . . . I’ll pull the curtain. I won’t say no.”

He ignored her as he unfastened the last button and slipped the shirt from her shoulders. He gazed lovingly as her. Her skin, where it wasn’t roughened by exposure to the sun , was tawny gold and soft as silk. She was as finely made as the carved cameo his mother had worn. He lifted her right arm and when she struggled to pull it away from him he tightened his grip. After a brief struggle she went completely still as he looked directly in her eyes and raised the maimed arm to press a kiss into the bend of her elbow, just above the stump. “Is this what you were afraid for me to see?” he asked her softly. She nodded silently, tears gathering in her eyes to fall unheeded.

“Oh bao bei,” he said with a catch in his throat, “You’re right, you never were pretty, nî hâo mei. Your body, your mind, your love, it’s always been a beautiful gift. Don’t shut me out any more, I can’t bear it.” Jian-ku reached up and wrapped both arms, the whole and the maimed around her husband’s neck and melted into his embrace. _________________________________________________

The stars were out as well as the moon by the time they strolled down the soft dirt road towards town. With the coming of winter it would be a nearly impassable mire. But tonight it was firm under foot and the breeze was just enough to cool their cheeks from the flush of the evening’s drinking. What the Irish called ‘a fine soft night’. “I think Jian-ku will stay now.” Yinna said with satisfaction.

Cafferty looked at her in surprise. “Stay?”

She looked at him in pity, “Gawd Almighty, are all men as clueless as you and Kellerman?” she asked the universe at large.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Jian’s been planning to go off planet for weeks. She was just trying to get up the nerve to tell her husband--and you.”

Enlightenment dawning, he said, “That’s what you were talking about in my office that day.” She ignored his comment with an eloquent look. After a pause he said meditatively, “Not all men. From something he said, I’d guess Miloslaw figured it out.”

“She loves Kellerman something fierce, I think she’ll stay now, if he don’t do anything really stupid tonight.”

They walked a few more paces before Cafferty had to ask, “Like what?”

She looked at him enigmatically as she said “With men, anything is possible, but I ain’t worried. I think Mr. Kellerman’s natural instincts is working for him on this.” After a pause during which he puzzled unsuccessfully at her meaning, she poked him in the ribs where he was carrying the package at his side, “What’s that, anyway?"

"Well,” Cafferty said with a sly grin, feeling rather proud of himself, “Why don't you open it up and take a look? It's for you, anyway."

"For me?" she said, snatching it from his hands and tearing at the wrapping. The paper succumbed quickly to her assault, revealing a large, heavy book, durably bound. She squinted down at the title, reading it one word at a time. "Basic Operation and Orientation . . .” She held it up to better see in the bright moonlight. Getting to the subtitle, she continued. "Introduction to Starship Operation.”

She looked at him like the sun had suddenly risen just to shine on him, then suddenly yelped loudly, brandishing the book with fierce enthusiasm. Cafferty grinned. She jumped once, then spun around in a terminal arc that would have introduced her to the ground in short order if he hadn't intervened to catch her. She leaned against him and he felt the soft womanliness of her along the whole length of his body. He was uncomfortably certain she could feel where parts of him suddenly weren’t so soft.

"Kevin," she murmured, looking up at his face, her lips parted just inches from his, her breath coming softly as she spoke, “I can’t tell you what this means to me.” Her eyes were enormous as she lifted her face towards his, one hand on his chest to steady herself. He didn’t have to bend down very far to kiss her. For one glorious moment he just let the feeling rush over him, as she twined one hand in his hair to pull him deeper into the kiss while the other rested on his chest. Then slowly coming to his senses, he gathered her hands in his and pulled away from her, setting her down more firmly on her heels and stepping back for their bodies to break contact.

“This isn’t what you want, Yinna, it isn’t right.” he said his breathing a little ragged with desire. “I’m too old and too broken down for you, best we don’t start something here . . .”

The softness left her eyes as they contracted in frustrated anger. “Best for who, Kevin Cafferty? I ain’t looking for someone to know what’s best for me, gorramit. I ain’t a virgin, this ain’t a rape, and the only seduction is me seducing you.”

“You want to go off planet, want to be more than you think will be permitted here. I respect that, I think that you can--that you should. Starting something here will just complicate that, make it harder.”

“Harder for who?” she demanded.

“For you . . . for me . . . for both of us. I’m not looking to go, I’m trying to find a place to stay. Some people have a wanderlust, that’s you,” he said with a twisted smile. “Some folks have a homing hunger, that’d be me. I don’t want to keep you, you deserve to have your life the way you want it. So better if we just . . . don’t.” he said sadly.

Yinna looked at him, her frustration turning to acceptance. If he were any less principled a man, she wouldn’t like him half so well, but it seemed a damn waste to her.

"Need to get back, y'know, to the office," he said, covering the moment as best he could. She nodded, breath huffing out.

"Yeah. Gotta get home. Probably have all sortsa’ folks with stuff broke on 'em in the mornin'," she agreed. She clasped the book close to her the whole way back. She had her eyes on the stars as they walked, and a couple of times, he had to reach over to steady her when she stumbled over some unseen roughness in the road.

Cafferty walked at her side and wondered how many different kinds of a fool he was for not taking what she offered. God knew it had been a long dry spell and she was a pretty girl; hell she was beautiful. He was half-way tempted to tell her he had changed his mind, to pull her back into a clinch and take her right there on the soft grass beside the road. But he never did get more than half-way there, he still had to live with himself in the morning. Kellerman would be shaking his head at his stupidity. He thought Miloslaw would understand though. _________________________________________________

Epilogue:

"Lawrence? Every Larry I ever met was a hopeless wise-ass."

"Hey, it's a better name than Theodore!”

“Bao bei, if it's a boy, we’ll call him Kevin Steven Kellerman , a fine Irish name, boy with a name like that, nothin’ in the verse he couldn’t do! Let's talk girl names."

"Steven, we're gonna have to talk about this. If it's a girl, you are NOT gonna spoil the hell out of her like she's some frontier princess."

"Mei li de li wu, I’ll spoil her as much as I can get away with, just like I do her mother."

"GORRAMIT, that tickles!"

THE END