****Serenity****** It had snowed. River danced across Serenity's cargo hold. So happy to be home. She would get Kaylee and Simon, together with the children, they would make angles in the snow covered the decks. No, not snow. Not cold. Too light and powdery. Rose up in clouds when she kicked her legs. Left a fine residue on her bare feet. Made her cough, got stuck in her panting lungs.

"Ash," she cried in recognition, clapping her hands. Had to tell Simon. He'd be so proud. They tried to trick her by making it all white and fluffy. Stacking it up so high. Had to let him know they couldn't trick her. She knew what was real.

"Please tell me we dumped all the gorram cargo on Calliope," Mal said running down the steps, Wash and Zoe following close behind.

"Look Captain! It's ash," River crowed cupping a large pile in her hands for him to inspect.

"Not so much as a stick left on the boat, Sir." Zoe answered.

They weren't listening. They never listened. "We got plenty of dust. You really have to get Jayne to clean up more," River admonished.

"Why do you think they're boarding us, Mal?" Wash asked.

"We can't have guests. This place is a mess." Why was she the only one who could see that?

"Most probably just a routine check. Alliance been mighty anxious since the revolt started. Everybody just stay cool and we'll be fine. Now raise your hands up high. Last thing we want is trouble."

The air lock snapped into place. The cargo bay door opened, a score of purple bellies marched on board Serenity followed by their commander. River was more annoyed than frightened. Didn't their mothers ever teach them that it was polite to knock?

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds, I presume." He was tall, dark, and handsome with his olive complexion and large brown eyes. There was something vaguely familiar about him.

Mal shook his head looking genuinely confused. "No Sir. Pete, Pete Townsend. This here is my wife Ann Margaret and my brother Tommy." Is the Captain trying to hide me? Maybe she should go and play outside like before. Where is Simon? She wanted Simon.

"Is there anyone else on board?" The leader asked in his deep melodic voice.

"No Sir." Mal lied. She was right here. Zoe and Wash were as quiet as the grave. No one seemed to notice she was there, so River decided to let it go. "We was just on our way to Santo to pick up our mail and a few supplies. There a problem?"

"Check the ship." Half of the invaders went marching deeper into the boat. "I assume you have papers to prove all this?"

"Sure do." Mal lowered his right hand slowly reaching into his back pocket. Something fell making a loud thud when it hit the floor. Everyone jumped. River ran and hid behind Zoe. The soldiers cocked their weapons ready to fire. "Whoah, easy there people," Mal said bending over to pick it up, he held the object in the air, "It's just a book, my papers are inside." One of the soldiers came over, cautiously taking the book from Mal. He handed it to his leader but kept the papers to examine.

The man turned the book in his hand, "Ibsen's A Doll's House. You a literary man Captain Townsend?"

"It's just an object. It doesn't mean what you think. . ." River offered, trying to be helpful.

"Just holdin' it for a friend," Mal answered.

"And this friend is fluent in Norwegian?" The dark man asked quirking an eyebrow.

"She's a pretty amazing woman."

"I'm sure."

"These are good, Sir," said the solider examining the papers interrupted, "The best I have ever seen. Must have cost a pretty penny, forgeries all the same."

The leader cocked his head in Mal's direction, "Care to change you story, Captain?"

"Don't see how that would do me much good."

"What's your opinion lieutenant? We don't want to take the wrong man." He cast an arrogant eye over Mal. "Frankly, if this is him, I'm more than a little appalled by her taste."

"Right type of ship. Right route. He fits the description the whore gave us even down to the tacky brown coat. He's the one," the lieutenant affirmed.

"What is she thinking?" The tall man shook his head. "Captain Malcolm Reynolds, you are under arrest for high treason. You will come with us now."

"I don't think so." Magically, Zoe had her gun trained on the dark man.

"You must be Zoe," he laughed. "How quaint, but predictable. You can't really believe that you can save him my dear." The purple bellies re-cocked their weapons to emphasize his threat.

"Shouldn't play with gun!" River advised, unheeded by deaf ears.

"Zoe don't do this," Mal ordered. River trembled. Wrong . . . it was all wrong.

"Shut up, Sir," she responded, and then shifted her eyes back to the dark man. "Don't have to save him. We got a real simple situation here. You gonna let him go and get the hell off our boat, or I'll drop you as I live and breath."

"And what about your husband?" The man nodded towards Wash, who stood there his hands still in the air. "Is Reynold's life worth his?" He pointed up to the catwalk. The other half of the soldiers had silently returned, everyone one of their guns trained on Wash's pale figure.

Zoe's eyes darted from Mal to Wash to the purplebelly bastard who knew so much about them. She couldn't think. Too much. Didn't want to die this way. River gently pushed Zoe's arms down.

Mal walked over to her and took the gun from her limp hands. The man held up an elegant hand and the soldiers held their position. Mal emptied the rounds onto the floor and gently tossed the gun away. "It'll be alright. You're the smart one, the strong one," he said gently kissing her on the forehead. "Look after the crew and my girl here. Tell 'Nara . . . tell her I'm sorry and that I love her." River knew he had more to say, but they were cuffing his hands behind his back and leading him away. The soldiers marched out behind him.

"How touching," the man sneered. "You two are free to go. Try to stay out of trouble." He left the remaining troops following in his wake. River ran after them, but the cargo bay doors had already closed.

"They're gonna kill him. Oh god, not like this . . ." Zoe muttered.

She began to cry. Zoe never cried. Her shoulders shook, harsh, ugly sounds coming from deep inside her. Wash was trying to hold her. Her face went all purple and her chest was heaving as if she couldn't get enough air. She sounded like she was being slowly skinned alive.

The pain! Too much, too much, it hurt her head. Where is Simon, he could make it better? Heavy weights were being added one by one on her temples. Crushing her to death, trying to extract information, but she didn't understand the questions! She didn't know why their world was being ripped apart. "Stop it!" River yelled. Zoe kept up the keening, worse and worse as she fell to the ashen floor holding herself all funny.

"Bao bei, bao bei." Now Wash was shouting. Too much noise. "Zoe! Get on your feet solider." Wash pulled her up roughly. "You gotta get a hold of yourself. This is not what Mal would want. We've got to think, make a plan." Zoe was not listening. She pulled away from her husband. The force with which she shook her head made her curls go wild. River wondered if they would turn into snakes. Wash had never seen her like this. It was like something snapped. He pulled her into a forced embrace and spoke soothingly, "We have been through worse than this. Mal will survive. We will survive."

"No we won't," River whispered. She finally recognized the scene they were in. She began to scream as the ship exploded into light, heat, and ash.

******Villa de L?ng, Londonium*****

"Why did you keep me waiting?" He'd been sitting in this bloody pool for over an hour. His hands and feet had gone all pruney. Chancellor L?ng was not a man who favored delaying his passions. He would have to punish her, remind her to whom she belonged. And yet, his body stirred at the sight of her and his heart began to beat faster.

"We are taught that anticipation increases pleasure. If I have displeased you, my Lord, I will gladly leave and send one of the maids."

"You will come here now," he ordered in a growl that shook with his want and wrath.

Kali delicately descended the steps of the pool. She wore only a blue-black kimono style robe made of a silk so finely wrought its iridescence could barely be seen where it draped over her slightest curves. Her arms were held aloft, the elongated sleeves skimmed across the fragrant, steaming waters. The kimono billowed out around her willowy form as she traversed the length of the bath. She looked like a bird floating towards its prey. Unbidden the words came to L?ng's moistened lips:

"One shade more, one ray less,/ Had half impair'd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress,/ Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express/ How pure, how dear their dwelling place."

"That was always one of my favorites," she breathed as he pulled her roughly onto his naked lap. She realized she was tense. Could he feel it in bunched muscles of shoulders, in the way she kissed him? She focused, used all her art to mirror his lust.

"Why do you hurt me, Pina?" He needed her and could not bear to feel her distress and distraction. She drew away slightly, aware she had failed to fool him. She paused and looked into his eyes, cast her own down, and made another effort.

She swayed with Pax-fed yearning. "Because you won't let me go. Because even the damned must have their due."

The truth on her lips hurt L?ng more than the lies the rest of her body was telling. She was the only person he had ever truly loved, his one all consuming passion. He had risked his power to bring her to his side. He ignored evidence of her treachery, he let her play her games. Still she would not grant him one taste of joy that was not laced with the rancid past. He despised her, his hate a measure of his love.

He savagely pushed himself inside of her, watching her gasp. He knew it was the first true reaction he had seen from anyone, but especially her in a long time. Alone, always alone. As he moved fiercely, mercilessly in her depths, her responses took on their ritualized artifice. Her breath quickened, nipples hardened into taunt nubs. Her pupils dilated, so that there was almost nothing left of the chocolate iris. Her walls started to shudder and tighten with signs of impending release.

Whore! This was not what he wanted. He longed for something real between them, something to carry him beyond her loathing. He gently pressed Kali back, her sinuous muscles bending like reeds. He pressed her back until that beautiful face disappeared beneath the surface of the lavender-scented water. He pressed her back, back, and lovingly held her down in bath's warm depths.

*****Sundown Township, Shadow****

They had been on the mule for over an hour. Serenity drank deeply again from the flask again, finishing the vile rotgut off. The rough whiskey had been the only thing keeping her warm on the frigid journey. The sun had set a long time ago, and Jayne still hadn't told her where they were going. Finally, he stopped the mule in what Kaylee benignly referred to as "the colorful side of town." They ended up outside a two-story building covered something that look like aluminum. A woman with long frizzy blond hair in a blue sequent bustier, an old gray shawl and dirty blue full skirts lounged on the porch idly smoking a cigarette. She tossed it away giving a squeal of excitement when she saw them.

"Jayne Cobb, you old bastard," she announced throwing herself into his arms while her still nimble hands snaked down his pants. "Why ain'tcha you been here to see me lately?!"

Jayne had the decency to blush as he tried to free himself from the woman's all-too familiar "embrace." "Helen, tasty as you are, I been busy on the ranch. I told you how things git 'round there."

"Yeah, busy tryin' to find your way into Kaylee's overalls."

"Maybe we should all go inside," Jayne gulped, giving Nitty a nervous and significant glance.

Serenity had led sheltered life. One of the adults always came with her whenever she visited Sundown and none of them would ever let her come around here, less bring her straight to the door! Still, she knew exactly what the older woman was and by extension, where Jayne had taken her. She'd'a been a mite embarrassed and a might uncomfortable, if the conversation she sat on the back of the mule observing weren't so interesting.

Oblivious to his silent plea, Helen continued, "I keep tellin' you, you should just come down here one of the nights she visits and pay Heath so's you can take his place! Hell, jus' promise ta do him after Kaylee, he'd step aside for free."

"Helen," Jayne was near shouting now and turning redder than a beet in the process, "this is Serenity."

That stopped the woman dead in her tracks. She turned real slow and stared at the red-faced girl sitting so quiet and so close. As the "lady" began to walk over, Serenity tensed up ready to bolt thinking that maybe running all the way back to the ranch in near freezing weather might be preferable to whatever was gonna happen around here. But then Helen did an odd thing. Upon reaching the girl, she bent down and tenderly kissed Serenity on both cheeks.

"Bless you honeychild," Helen said, an almost maternal look coming across her face. "Your daddy saved my life, more than once." She turned to speak to Jayne, "She looks so much like her. . ."

Jayne cut her off before anymore damage could be done, "Lets go inside, huh? It's colder'n a witch's tit out here."

The inside of the house was a lot better looking than the outside. The walls were painted a muted red, decorated with tasteful picture of particular acts. Heck, they even had a chandelier with what looked to be real candles. Serenity gawked, goggled a bit at some of the more specialized pictures, and figured that all this fancy stuff meant that this was one of the better houses of ill repute. She wondered if her mother had worked in a place like it. Serenity would have been almost comfortable, if every man in the room wasn't starin' like she was Tuesday supper and them not fed since Sunday.

Jayne, nervous and thinking that his plan was gettin' sour quick, looked beseechingly at a pretty woman in a plain floral dress.

"Now gentlemen, put your peckers back in your pants. This here is Mal Reynold's daughter and she will be treated with respect." She sounded so sweet, but her voice held an iron note of command. Duly warned, the men returned their attention to the available entertainment in the room.

The years had been good to Petaline. After Nandie's death she took over the Heart of Gold, by the time the war broke out she could have retired on the money she'd made. Instead she stayed on as the Madame, running the place they way her friend and mentor would have wanted it. She would be there now if the Feds hadn't run her outta business so the Guild could set up trade on that gorram moon. True to his word, Mal showed up shortly after her distress call to transport her and all her employees to the safe haven of Independence-friendly Shadow. Petaline smiled now at his daughter.

"I feel like I already know you. Your daddy thinks the world of you, talkin' all about you ever' time I see him."

Serenity nearly passed out from the combination of alcohol and shock, "Really?"

"Of course, and why wouldn't he? You're such a pretty and accomplished girl. What can we do for you?" Petaline turned and inquired, not quite sure why Jayne had brought her here of all places. She was sure gonna hear an earful from Mal and Kaylee when all this was said and done.

"I . . .I . . . don't know, ma'am," Serenity answered, terrified that she might make some break in etiquette after such an unexpectedly warm welcome. Petaline gaped a moment, then laughed and started to speak.

"Brought her here to get sexed. She's a virgin," Jayne interrupted in a less than discreet whisper.

Serenity blushed, "Jayne! You go no business . . ." She thought she would die of embarrassment. It was bad enough that no one, except men that mistook her for a whore, would look at her twice. Now Jayne was practically broadcasting to the entire place that he had to pay for someone to touch her.

Petaline could feel the girl's shame. "It's okay honey, the first time is always," she paused searching for the right words, "a mite troublesome. You're just lucky that Jayne had the raregood sense to bring you on into my place so's it'll be right. Would you prefer a boy or a girl?"

Oh yes, death right about now would be nice. Serenity couldn't even answer this seemingly most basic of questions with any certainty. "Ahh . . . umm . . . a boy, I guess, thank you ma'am."

Petaline struggled to keep a straight face. "Ah, a traditionalist. You are our special guest, you can have your pick of the house. Boys." Four men ranging in ages from their late teens to early thirties leapt up from playing cards, line up in front of her. Petaline's establishment was noted, by the locals for the varieties of tasty it offered, each man suited a particular preference in looks. "Serenity Reynolds, may I present Chan, Tyson, Carlo, and Heath."

"Pleased to meet you," quavered Serenity. Jayne nudged Petaline's shoulder, nodding at the man closest to them.

"Heath, you services won't be needed tonight," said Petaline quickly. Serenity looked calf-eyed at Petaline and Jayne, mouth opening to protest. "It would be in bad taste . . . you're a bit too . . . old for this fine young filly." The man with ivory skin, bright blue eyes, and black hair appeared notably disappointed, but politely bowed and left obeying her subtle but unmistakable command. Jayne, his arm now lazily draped over Helen, looked extremely pleased by Heath's exclusion.

Petaline paused, studied Serenity a moment, and said gently, "It's your choice now, honeychild. You see somethin' special enough to suit you?"

"Umm, well you're all real pretty, but . . ."

"May I suggest my services?" An attractive, but average looking young man spoke in a deep, beautiful voice. Serenity felt her knees go all funny and her eyes get real . . . well . . . she took a deep steadying breadth. He looked just a few years older than herself. He took Serenity's hand, kissing it lightly just above her knuckles. Through her blurring vision, she marked the similarity his to the Madame, the same wavy brown hair and soft brown eyes, his face was less round and he had a slight cleft in his chin. "After all, I owe my life to Captain Reynolds as well." He smiled warmly at her, "I'm Jonah Burgess."

"S. . . Ser . . . Serenity." Ai ya, I sound like a back birth!

"I know," he said his eyes never leaving hers. "Would you do me the honor of accompanying me upstairs, Miss Reynolds?"

Jayne leaned in towards Petaline, actually managing to whisper this time, "Your boy know what he's about? I only want the best for her."

"Now who's his Mama, Jayne? You think I'd let my boy go untrained? Jonah's in the family business," Petaline confirmed. "I hold him back for special clients. Guess he made his own choice this time. Don't fret, he'll take good care of her."

Even if he didn't, it was too late. Jonah was already leading Serenity up the stairs. She was moon-brained his mellow self-assurance and the dizzying, delicious sense that this boy actually wanted her. She barely heard Jayne call after her, "Don't kiss him on the mouth! I never kiss 'em on the mouth, Nitty."

Jonah shut the door behind the two of them, glad that its weight helped to block out Jayne's continuing litany of distasteful instructions.

"Jayne means well, but sometimes he lacks social graces, " he said handing her a glass of whiskey, which she gratefully took and tossed back in one shot. Jonah had never let go of her hand, he was stroking the inside of her arm and it was makin' her all wobbly. Or was that the whiskey?

"You should see him eat at dinner. I seen cows chew cud look less revoltin'," she snorted nervously.

He pulled her to him. His chest, now somehow bare though Serenity couldn't remember him doing any unbuttonin'. She leaned into him, then pulled back as she felt his heat and a tickle form some fine hairs somewhere, couldn't see where, what was wrong with her eyes?

He drew back a little, examining her face. The flush of embarrassment, and judging by her breadth more than a bit of cheap whiskey, only served to heighten her coloring. Her deep blue eyes, though glazed with anticipation, were darting back and forth trying to take in the room. Without a spec of makeup or frippery on, she easily was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. The flower of the county, as the locals said. He would have to answer to Kaylee. He knew, her always tryin' to scare off the resident male populace with promises of gelding the first one who touched Serenity even . . . but that was for the next time he saw Kaylee, not now. He pulled Serenity's trembling body slowly closer and kissed his client, trying to ignore his own man parts' questionable future.

He pulled back at her tenuous response, not wanting to rush her, and asked, "What are you thinking?"

The room had joined her head, reeling out of control. She felt like she'd been dancing around the maypole for hours and now couldn't stop. Her mouth tasted funny, but she didn't think it was from the kiss. He hadn't tried to stick his tongue in her mouth or any of the other gross things she heard boys did. All the same, she didn't feel good and wished she was at home in bed.

"I think," she slurred, "I think I'm gonna be sick." And then she was, all over Jonah Burgess's shiny new boots.

***** Reynolds Ranch*****

"You did what?!"

It took what was left of Jayne's coordination to dodge the vase-missile that flew at his head. "Now, c'mon Kaylee, you ain't lookin' at this right." He spoke in soothing tones trying to calm her down before somethin' heavy hit his head and he lost consciousness as well as control of the situation.

"You took my baby to a brothel! How am I supposed to look at it?!" Kaylee was yellin' loud enough to wake the dead, punctuating her statement by hurling one of her fancy painted plates at him. It just missed him smashing against the innocent wall. Shit, she's really mad to let fly one'a those! Jayne hadn't felt this exposed and threatened in any of the gunfights he'd been in. He kept his feet movin', watchin for another missile. He certainly hadn't seen anyone this pissed at him since the time Mal nearly through him out the air lock after a small misunderstanding on Ariel.

"It ain't like we weren't gettin' some at her age. Heck, you even bedded a fifteen year old or two as memory serves," he reasoned.

"Don't you dare bring that up," she snapped. "Simon was right. You are like a trained ape, without the training!"

"Well, Simon ain't here, is he?!" He shouted back, enraged that she'd shove Dr. Pussy Pants in his face. She was the only reason why he came back to this rutting planet, after the genius one up and disappeared. And what had it got him, since that day he had lived his poor excuse for a life in that weakling's shadow.

Kaylee's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Get outta my house," she hissed.

"Fine! I'll be in my shed when you're ready to deal with a real man." Jayne stomped out the door cussin' all womenfolk, followed by the sounds of more breaking ceramics.

Kaylee pushed her fingers through her long red hair and tried counting to ten, waiting for her anger to cool. She had never been the violent type. Picking up a gun still made her feel queasy and she was admittedly the worst shot on the ranch. But right now, she was ready to pick up the rifle Mal had given her a few birthdays ago and start shootin' an' if Jayne just happened to be in the way, well so sad. No, it was really just a matter of figuring out who she was gonna take out first: Petaline for waiting till everything had gone south to contact her; Jayne for taking Serenity to that place; or Serenity for being . . . Serenity.

The girl was growing more outta control by the day. Neglecting her studies and chores, runnin' about with Jayne doin' God knows what, or just disappearin' for hours on end. If it weren't for the war, she'd scrape up the last of Inara's jewelry and send Serenity to Buddholic nuns' school hopin' that religion, meditation, and/or a few good beatings nuns could straighten her out.

I've tried to be the best mama I knew how, she had everything I never did plenty of food to eat, a good education, and more looks than was healthy for a girl her age. But I guess I grew up knowin' that my Mama an' Daddy loved me no matter what stupid tricks I pulled. Kaylee knew Serenity's life had been hard with her pa and her ma gone, but that was no excuse. And it was about time someone told little miss high and mighty so.

Kaylee took the stair two at a time, busting down Serenity's without so much as a knock. "Now you listen here missy. . ."

Kaylee stopped. Her baby was curled up on the bed weeping like her heart was breaking. "What's wrong with me a yi? I . . . I . . . I barfed! All other his pretty . . . and he didn't even get mad," she wailed. "Why can't I do anything right? Why do I spoil everything?"

Kaylee forgot the lecture she was about to deliver. She sat on the bed stroking Serenity's curly black hair. "There ain't nothin' wrong with you, precious. You just forget 'bout thinkin' sometimes." She opened her arms and Serenity came, somehow managing to curl the growing adolescent body into a ball on Kaylee's lap. Lil' darlin' used to do the same thing when she was a girl and had skinned knee. Serenity continued cry as Kaylee held her rocking her gently back and forth, "There now, Nitty, it's all gonna be fine. I promise." Serenity sobbed harder, making unintelligible sounds. Kaylee started to sing to her, the same song Inara had sung to her baby in the cradle, "Take my love, take my land. Take me we where I cannot stand."

*****Sihnon***** These weren't River's memories. This was not her pain. Still, she could not hold the ghosts at bay. She stopped fighting and let them flooded through her blinding, burning, screaming . . .

Mal burned with fever, pain wracked his body. His right arm had been dislocated and at least three of his ribs were broken. But his body's screams that tortured him with every breath were noting compared to his soul's despair. He had failed them. Inara had been right, his fool's pride had destroyed them all. The Alliance had blown up the ship the moment they were a safe distance away. After that he'd lost track of the days, lying here waiting for them to work him over again, hoping that this time they would go far enough to kill him. They hadn't even bothered to ask him any questions, it felt like they were doin' it just for fun. To amuse the bastard that always stood in the shadows just beyond his view. Now he knew why they had kept him alive.

She came to him like a dream.

Inara looked like she was dressed for her wedding day. Fine white gossamer clung tightly to every curve; the fabric was so thin he could see her lush body, like a drawn bowstring, beneath. Pearls adorned her black mass of curls. Diamonds glittered at her ears and throat. Her face was painted like she was meeting a client; kohl made her dark eyes stand out against the honey of her skin. She had dusted her face and body in gold to highlight her coloring. Glossy red-painted lips, those lips he could feel moving on him even in this hell, curved into a poignant smile as she floated towards him followed by dark shadows.

"Give us some privacy," she ordered. The wraiths obeyed her command.

"'Nara . . . I . . ."

She bent over him, her cool hands stroking his burning cheeks. She felt so good, like he'd come home at last. She was crying. Though her body remained still and supple, small tears ran down her cheeks raining golden droplets onto his face. She kissed him slowly, savoring the touch of his lips. Even in his agony, Mal reached for the comfort of her lips, just the lips, he couldn't move . . . The kiss tasted like sweet wine with the underlying acidity of blood and regret. It tasted like goodbye. She gently took his hand and held it to her breast. "You were right Mal. This is all I am. This body is all I have." She said softly, finishing a long conversation for both of them.

"No . . . Serenity. You gotta go back for our . . ."

"Shhh," she silenced him. "Listen to me, just this once. They are going to take you from here and put you on a transport ship. Don't go home, Mal, not if you love them. Wander, hide, throw the men who will follow you off your trail. You know how. Don't go home until its safe." She turned to leave.

"Inara," he demanded with the last strength he had, forcing himself up and grabbing her wrist, he looked her in the eyes. "I'm not worth it."

Her wan smile twisted removed her from him and dark eyes froze him, transformed into black glaciers. "I know," she whispered. She slapped his torn, bruised cheek. Mal fell back with a snarl of agony.

"Are you alright, little princess?" One of the shadows moved forward. Mal saw through swollen and watering eyes the dark man who had boarded Serenity. He enfolded Inara protectively in his arms.

"Bastard thought he had the right to touch me," she spat.

"How ridiculous," he said gathering her heavy fall of hair into his hands, as if he cherished her. "Your belong to me."

"Always Alexandrous, always a ge," she promised raising herself up on her toes to kiss him. She arched her back pressing her body closer to his, drawing him deeper into the kiss.

Inara broke the kiss, but kept her body plastered to his. "The others?"

"Dead."

"The ship?"

"Dust."

"Good, then he has nothing. He is nothing."

"Shall I kill him for you darling?"

"No!" She said just a little too quickly. Schooling her voice, she continued, "I want him to suffer a long time with the price of his arrogance. A bullet is too good for him." She turned, never breaking the circle of Alexandrous's arms to face the guards who had taken such delight in beating Mal. "But that doesn't mean that we can't have a little entertainment," she lilted. "Break his leg. We don't want him running back to the rebel scum too soon."

Mal didn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it. He had lived with this woman. They had a child, shared a life. In her arms he relearned trust. She had made him whole again. Though they never said it, he loved her and knew she loved him. She wouldn't betray him, not this way. No, it was part of plan. Any minute Zoe . . . no, Zoe was dead. Then Jayne . . . The reality of the situation fell on him with the iron of the crowbar that crushed his left leg. He watched unbelieving as the woman he worshipped embraced another, her passion seemingly fanned by the sounds of his screams.

Inara finally disentangled herself from the other man's arms. Standing by Mal's side once more, she caressed his shattered leg. "I told you, I'd make you sorry. You destroyed my life, so I took yours. It's just a shame that Zoe and Wash had to pay for your petty incompetence."

He panted, struggling to hold onto consciousness. "I'll kill you. I swear, one day I will kill you for this, you bitch!"

Inara lorded over him. Her cool hand, slick with his blood, stroked the side of his face again, but it brought no comfort this time. "Good," she said gravely. She bent down, stealing one last kiss from his lips as she jabbed a needle into the side of his neck.

She began to weave her curse. "Live for the crew; they will need you in the days to come." She whispered so only the two of them could hear. "Live for our daughter; you are all she has left." The drugs were taking effect quickly, her face grew hazy, her voice distant and weak. "Live for that day; I will be waiting my love."

Mal was fading fast, falling into the comforting darkness where nothing else could hurt him. Somewhere on the edge of his mind he heard them speaking.

"What did you tell him?" The dark man asked.

"Only the truth. We're both free now," she answered as their rich laughter mixed together and they left.

It was quiet, but it was far from over. The rage burned leaving white ashes it its wake. Wrong . . . it was all wrong. White is the color of mourning, not weddings. River lay in her bed weeping, holding herself lest her mind shatter with the force of their pain. He understands. He does not comprehend. Where's there's truth there will be lies. 'After all, what is a lie? 'Tis but the truth in masquerade.' She rocked back and forth, rambling on softly:

"And on that cheek, and o'er that brow/ So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow,/ But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below,/ A heart whose love is innocent!"

She Walks in Beauty, George Gordon, Lord Byron

Again, I find spelling and grammar a mite problematic. Please post comments, I live for them. Let me know if I should continue this madness. ??