Disclaimer: I don't own them. Joss Whedon has that curse/honor. I probably would've given up with cancellation, so let's all be glad he DOES own them ;-D Spoilers: None, but... well, I've seen the movie and I don't know how much of my brain was tainted by what happened in it. So... be warned. Time: Pre-series

The sparrows danced among the garden, moving from one weak branch to another. Derrial Book sat on one of the stone benches, neck craned to watch the tiny birds playfully dart back and forth. His hand was resting on his open testimonial, fingers marking the verse where he'd left off. The yellow sparrow seemed aware of his audience, making wide arcs and spinning in flight as an acrobatic display of his abilities. It took all of his willpower - which was plentiful - to keep from applauding the small bird's performance.

A blue and a red sparrow alighted on a thin branch that was reaching out from the rose bush like a bony finger. The branch sagged a bit but bounced back, taking the additional weight in stride. Book smile, wondering how the birds had achieved such balance. A human being attempting such a feat would have caused the branch to snap, the tree to buckle. Perhaps finding that balance was precisely what gave these small birds the ability to fly so carelessly, so free. They knew their place in the universe and, more importantly, the universe bowed to their presence.

Such a small thing, a sparrow on a branch. And yet, it spoke to him so deeply that he closed his testimonial on his thumb to watch them as they performed their magnificent shows.

The wide wooden door opened slightly, admitting a young monk named Tebaya. His bald head shone in the sunlight, his bushy eyebrows covering the rat-like eyes Book knew lay beneath. "Shepherd," the young man whispered gently. "Guests."

Book nodded and Tebaya returned to the darkness of the corridor.

Marking his place in the testimonial with a thin strip of red ribbon, Book stood and clutched the leather-bound edition to his chest. He turned his smiling face again to the sun, again to the black, sparrow-shaped shadows that swirled above him. "Another time, my friends," he said, waving them off with his free hand as he followed Tebaya into the darkness of the abbey.

The young monk was nowhere to be seen by the time Book closed and secured the courtyard door. He placed the testimonial book on the easel next to the door, should someone else require scripture before he returned. Gathering his simple brown robe in one hand, he walked down the narrow corridor towards the main hall of the abbey.

The walls were bare, composed of wide gray brick and towering over his head before culminating in an arc hidden deep within shadows. Every few dozen paces, a narrow slip of a window allowed small strips of sunlight to illuminate his way. Rounding the final corner, he peered through one of these windows and saw the main courtyard.

He froze in his steps.

"Again?" he asked, his voice unimaginably loud in the confined walkway. He shuddered beneath his robe and dropped to one knee. Closing his eyes, he clasped both hands in front of his face and breathed a prayer into his palms.

"Hear my plea, do not make me bear this burden alone. I fear I cannot take it much longer... the stains on my soul are becoming... far too dark. Every moment spent this way is another moment I doubt my soul shall ever see Your glorious face. Lift this stone from me, I plead, or allow me to share what I know with others. I implore you... make me as the branch to the sparrow so the weight of my guilt and my conscience does not snap beneath this burden."

He crossed himself and stood, moving slowly as he closed the distance to the main hall.

The men gathered took notice as he approached, a few of them standing and facing him. He forced a smile and continued walking, nodding to them. They felt alien, although all of the faces looking back in his direction were human - and everyone knew aliens were things of childhood myth. Their dark blue uniforms and the sun-reflecting helmets looked like something out of a storybook.

He motioned at the set of doors on the opposite side of the hall. "Whenever you are ready," he said gently, bowing his head and hurrying to enclose himself in the darkness.

Kneeling in the dark, he prayed. He held his fists against his forehead, hoping against hoping that none would enter today. They would all be too ashamed, they would all seek absolution elsewhere. Please, he begged of God, take them from here, take them from me, take them from this place, just please, God, I implore You, give me any mission but this! Give me any burden to bear and I shall...

The door to the next room opened and he was forced to stifle a sob. Light poured into his small cubicle through the mesh window between their two sections, disappearing as the Alliance soldier closed the confessional door behind him. Book crossed himself, imagining the sparrow on the branch... the branch that would bend, but refused to break.

"Yes, my child," he said in as light a voice as he could manage. "What is your confession?"

And as the soldier spoke, Derrial Book felt the tree branch snap inside of him.