Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon. Mainly because I haven't the courage to stick in a Mary Sue. Also because he is awesome. Will continue to live vicariously through Mal.

This is Chapter 5 of the story that began here:

http://www.fireflyfans.net/bluesun.aspx?bid=5474

and continued here:

http://www.fireflyfans.net/bluesun.aspx?bid=5523 http://www.fireflyfans.net/bluesun.aspx?bid=5547 http://www.fireflyfans.net/bluesun.aspx?bid=5578

and is a continuation of Our Co-Pilot Tam, which can be found here:

http://www.fireflyfans.net/bluesun.aspx?bid=5386

It would be very shiny if anyone could tell me how to stick in actual links.

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The table was silent, except for the sound of Zoe dropping the salad bowl in surprise. All eyes turned toward Gabriel and Simon at the head of the table. Simon himself was staring at his father, stunned. Then realization came over him. “Of course! I remember from elementary civics. Members of Parliament have diplomatic immunity from criminal charges, except when impeached by their peers. And they can issue Parliamentary Pardons for crimes short of murder.” Glancing across the table at Mal, he continued, “Like smuggling. And obstructing justice. And sheltering fugitives. Even if the fugitive was the Member himself.” “That's the most abusive, corrupt set of laws I've ever seen,” Mal said. “Glad they're on our side this time, though,” said Zoe. “I can't remember the last time we weren't wanted for something.” “How can you be sure you'd win?” Inara asked. “There must be well-connected candidates lining up, who haven't spent the last few years a fugitive.” “That will work in Simon's favor,” said Gabriel. Politics on Osiris is very much an upper-class sport, and the upper classes are tired of the mismanagement of insiders. No one has the reforming credentials that Simon's years with you give him. Furthermore, most of the voters will listen to the existing delegation. If Simon can gain their support, his election will be a breeze. Two of our delegates, of course, were neck-deep in Miranda and have been impeached; the others are General Carter Lang and Lord Samuel Smythe. Lord Smythe is a cipher and is entirely in General Lang's pocket—gain Lang's trust and you are elected.” Simon's face froze in a horrified expression, echoed by Mal's, Zoe's, and Inara's. Jayne and Kaylee looked at them, then at one another. Gabriel paused in what would have been a longer monologue. “What'd I miss?” Jayne asked. “I know some of you fought with the Independents,” Gabriel said, “And hold a not unjustifiable rancor against Alliance politician-generals, General Lang in particular. But the events on Verbena have been...misrepresented. It was not on his order that--” “I don't think that's the problem,” Zoe said. “The woman in the infirmary,” Simon said, “Was once General Lang's...” he grasped for an appropriate word, “Pleasure-slave. She told us several things...I'm not sure I could look him in the face knowing them. That is, if I decide to run. This is all extremely sudden,” he continued. “Two days ago I was on Balder, never planning to return to the Central Worlds. I'll think about it, and talk with Kaylee. And call Amos about River.” “Pleasure-slave,” Gabriel replied evenly. “General Lang does not have a pleasant reputation, I will acknowledge. But the path to Parliament leads through him, and that is the only way to permanently shut down the Academy and make River safe.” “What is the nature of his reputation?” Inara asked. “He is ruthless,” Gabriel explained. “Parliament is his life, and there is very little he will not do to succeed in those terms. He has no family, only a personal Companion who he flaunts—but never tastelessly—mocking the Guild which banned him long ago, as you must know. Those that cross him live to regret it, either from humiliation or pain. Hence his domination of Lord Smythe and the election.” He glanced over his shoulder at the bench on which Alexandra lay, unconscious. “Pleasure-slaves are new. I had not heard that one. How did you come to...acquire her?” he asked. “She married Mal,” Inara said wryly. “It wasn't a real marriage!” Mal protested. “We did a job for some poor folk,” Zoe interjected. “They couldn't pay us much, and so she snuck on board and pretended to be part of the payment. Called herself Saffron then. She seduced Mal--” “Tried to seduce!” “And stole our ship, but we got it back. Then, she showed up again, calling herself Bridget, and roped us into stealing--” Zoe paused, looking at Gabriel. “Carry on,” he said. “I've resigned myself to the fact that my future in-laws are thieves.” “Stealing an artifact on Bellerophon, where she was known as Yolanda,” Zoe continued. “She tried to put one over on us again, but failed.” “Thanks to quick action on Inara's part,” Kaylee said proudly. “Then, she showed up just a week ago,” Zoe picked up again, “With another job for us. We were getting pretty hungry then, so we took her on board, but locked her down. Somehow she escaped--” “Weren't my fault,” Jayne broke in. “Jien hwo dislocated her ankle to get out of the cuffs.” “This time,” Mal took up the tale, “River stopped her. That's how she got that fine scar there. I'm not sure if River was quite herself when she gave it to her, but in retrospect it seems like a fine idea.” “She'd been trained as a Companion,” Inara explained, “But not in the Guild.” “River read her mind,” Simon said, “And told us her real name, which when you mention it makes her a fair bit more docile.” Mal whistled. “Pretty name too. Alexandra Petrova Smirnova.” Gabriel leaned forward at the mention. “Alexandra Petrova Smirnova,” he repeated. “But she's supposed to be dead.” “I take it you've heard of our little scam artist,” Mal replied. “Maybe even met her.” “General Peter Smirnov died at Boros,” Gabriel explained, “And it was believed that his wife and daughter died as well, during the Allied bombardment.” “Which he ordered,” Zoe added. “He left behind a...more than substantial fortune, which has been tied up in litigation ever since. That woman is wealthier than I am, if she can prove her paternity.” Gabriel looked back at her once again. “It's a pity we can't lay our hands on that ourselves.” “Mal married her,” Zoe offered. “No,” Mal replied. “And she was Carter Lang's pleasure slave?” Gabriel asked. “That's how she got her training,” Inara said with a hard edge to her voice. “Probably from his tame ex-companion.” “Well,” Gabriel said, rising. “Miss Smirnova there could be a very powerful piece on our side, if I can figure out how to play her correctly. I would like to speak with her tomorrow, when she wakes.” Taking his snifter in hand, he added, “Do not think too long about running, Simon. The Alders are holding one of their fetes in four days, and General Lang will be there, along with any other candidates who have emerged by then. That is our opportunity.” He walked over to where River lay on the couch, tenderly kissed her cheek, then made his way to the stairs. Mal looked over his shoulder until he was sure that he was gone, then said in a low voice, “That man is too used to getting his own way.” “He's like you,” Inara replied. Kaylee laughed, but then added seriously, “It's like he never considered Simon might say no.” “He's like that,” Simon said. “He always has been. That's just the tone he used when he warned me not to rescue River. Firm, confident, unwilling to even recognize obstacles. I'd bet he's had my parliamentary campaign planned for weeks. I almost want to refuse, just to see what he'd do.” He sighed, looking across the table at Kaylee. “He's right, though. This is an opportunity that won't come again for a long time. If the reformers win control of Parliament, we can shut down the Academy—which is, like you said, Mal, the next try they're making to make people...better—stop letting border governors turn their planets into private fiefs—take apart the gentleman's club the system's government has become--” he paused. “That all may not be so important to you, but trust me, it's worthwhile.” “And what do we do in the meantime?” Zoe asked, “While you're running around making nice to child molesters.” “Food's good here,” Jayne said, dipping a heel of bread in the meat serving bowl. “You could run to Sihnon,” Simon said, “And deliver Alexandra to the Guild.” “But no,” said Mal, “Because the politician wants to use her for something.” He brushed crumbs off his brown shirt. “Simon, I've come to respect you a lot over the past year. You're not like other folks I've known from the Central Worlds. You're a man of honor, a man of conviction, a man of your word. This...job will poison you, make you like them.” “I don't think it will,” Simon replied. “I've got Kaylee to keep me honest.” “And we go off smuggling needing our mechanic?” Mal asked. “Or do you and Kaylee kiss goodbye for weeks at a time?” “Why can't we stay here 'til that fete?” Kaylee asked Mal. “You can take River to get her brain fixed more,” to Simon, “You can have some time to decide,” to Inara, “You can screen some clients here,” and pointing to herself, “I think the fete will be a lot of fun. Zoe, want to go dress-shopping?” Zoe shifted in her chair. “I could do with a shopping trip and a few days' downtime. Like Mal said, though, I don't want to stay here for too long, with nothing to do and on someone else's coin. This is nice, but it ain't our home. In four days, we'll probably be back around this table saying the same gos se.” Jayne grunted, getting to his feet. “Well I'm going to sleep,” he said. “A real bed's looking real good right about now.” “And there ain't even a woman in it,” Mal said, standing. “Until tomorrow, everyone.”

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Late that night, Simon paced in his room, or what had been his room. Even when he'd had an apartment in the city, he'd kept a place here, with all his old things still on the shelves—books, toys, favorite memorabilia. When he'd left to rescue River the second time, his father had packed everything up. Some of it was in boxes in the basement, he'd found after a brief search, but the majority had likely been thrown away. Just as well, perhaps, he thought—he was very much not the same person he had been back then. Nevertheless, it would have been nice to sleep under his favorite Trauma Ward poster--Tian, he hadn't seen that show in a long time, not since he'd begun practicing for real—with his old Allied Forces action figures watching over him. That might have been too ironic, though. “Who am I?” he asked the walls as he paced. “Doctor Tam, trauma surgeon? Simon the medic? River Tam's keeper?” The floorboards creaked under his steps. “My father's son again, even after he was wrong the once? Kaylee's husband?” He closed his eyes and stopped, leaning on the wall. The creaking of the floorboards continued, up to his door. The doorknob turned, and Kaylee slipped in, pajama-clad with hair that had definitely seen a pillow that night. “What're you doing awake?” she asked. “I know you've heard of knocking,” said Simon. “Just saw your light on, was wondering what you were doing up this late,” said Kaylee, coming over to put her arms around him. “You're still all dressed too. What's wrong?” Simon embraced her in return. “It's the job,” he said. “I'm trying to talk myself into running, or into running away. Not quite sure which.” He leaned down to kiss her. “I can feel my old world starting to suck me back in. I waited two years go be able to go home again, I can go home again now, and I've gone home, but I'm not sure it's home anymore.” “Maybe your home is with us,” Kaylee suggested, kissing him back lightly. “That could be,” Simon said, caressing her. “Mal's right, politics will poison me, make me my father.” “Maybe you should let someone else do this,” Kaylee suggested. “And trust them to do right by River and the...rest of the crew?” Simon sighed. “That's not the Tam way. Although I'm not really sure what the Tam way is anymore. Or if I'm a Tam anymore,” he added. “I learned that my mother died and my first reaction was, 'I didn't expect to see her again, anyway.' What kind of a reaction is that? Dad may be hard-headed, but I love him. I want to love him or hate him, not treat him like I'm Mal and he's offering a business deal I can fly away from when it's done.” “You don't have to decide now,” Kaylee said. “Don't let him rush you.” “But if I don't run, I don't know what I'll say to him,” Simon replied. “Or to River.” “You have me now,” said Kaylee, reaching up to unbutton the top of his shirt. Simon took her hand from the button, and kissed it. “In my father's house, before we're married?” Kaylee pulled him around and onto the bed, landing atop him. “Your problem,” she said, resuming her task, “is you ain't ever learned how fun it is to be naughty.” “There's a time and a place,” Simon objected, then joined in helping his shirt off. “And I guess it's now and here,” he conceded, reaching out to perform the same favor to her pajama top. Kaylee shrugged out of it and leaned down to kiss Simon's neck, continuing along his shoulderblade and leaving a line of kisses across his chest. She paused, reaching the scar just below his ribs where a Reaver's bullet had struck him down. “Almost lost you here,” she murmured. Simon shifted further onto the bed, drawing Kaylee up after him, and returned the favor, moving from her neck, down her side, and up her breast. Kaylee extended one leg in a futile attempt to undo his pants, then lay back, a broad smile on her face. “I could make it easier for you,” Simon whispered, “...but let's save the difficult one for last,” as he curled up to kiss her navel, then moved down her stomach, taking the drawstring of her pajama bottoms between his teeth. One twist of his head and they were undone. Kaylee pulled Simon back up to her, drawing him into a deeper kiss as she wriggled free of her pajamas. “See, isn't it fun this way?” she asked in a whisper, finally reaching down to unbutton his pants. Then the com rang. “Hey, Simon?” the voice came through. “Got your wave, thought I'd call you back.” “Ugh, it's Amos,” Simon said, rolling out of bed. “Have to take this.” Shirtless, he stepped over to the com. “Hey Amos, this is really not a good time...what is it?” “Just wanted to let you know I have all afternoon empty the day after tomorrow, if you wanted to bring River down then. It's really too bad about her injury. If she's half as cute as she used to be, I'll fix her for free.” Simon shook his head, smiling. “Good old Amos. I'll see you in two days, then.” He cut the com and turned back to the bed, where his lovely, naked bride-to-be lay glaring at him in mock petulance. “Two days, eh?” she said. “Two people can do a lot in two days, if they're determined.” And pulled him back onto her.

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The house creaked, rhythmically from one second-floor room, irregularly from the west winds that blew through the Five Hills, and now from the back staircase as Jayne descended. Creeping quietly, he made his way into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, then paused. “Gorram Central Planets,” he muttered, looking at the vast array of food—rows and rows of Blue Sun labels, Ersoft, Five Hills...”Just wanted a snack,” he continued, closing the door and wandering on into the dining room. “Who's there?” Zoe's voice echoed unsteadily from the darkness. “Just me,” Jayne replied, closing the kitchen door. “What are you doing awake?” she asked. “Couldn't sleep. Too gorram quiet. No engines.” Zoe was standing by one of the broad windows, a half-full glass in her hand and several half-empty bottles on a side-table beside her. “What about you?” Jayne asked. Zoe looked up at the stars, clearly visible even with the dull glare of the guard fence. “Just thinking about all that,” she said, indicating the sky. “Places we've been, places I've fought...want a drink?” Jayne began to shake his head, then nodded, picking up a bottle. “Aguardi--what in gorram hell are you drinking, Zoe?" he asked. "I can't pronounce it and I'm sober.” Zoe drew out another glass and poured, then handed it up to him. “Aguardiente,” she said. Jayne sipped his drink, finding it unexpectedly strong, even for him. Zoe must be extremely drunk, he realized, if she'd consumed as much as the bottles indicated. “Not bad,” he said. “Somewhere out there there's a world that ain't looking back,” Zoe said, “Where Wash is from. Y'know, we never went there? Never occurred to me to ask.” “Never looked at the stars from this far in,” replied Jayne. “Don't think I could find Aberdeen up there.” “Still have that hat your mother sent you?” Zoe asked. Jayne nodded. “Wouldn't lose that.” Following her gaze to the stars again, he asked “Where are you from again?” Zoe's arm reached out, pointing. “See that light?” “That's a ship goin' by,” Jayne said. “No, beyond it. That's Hera,” Zoe said, losing her balance. Jayne caught her with one arm, but reaching out to grab her drink sent the glass flying into a table, shattering. Zoe steadied herself and got up, pushing Jayne's arm off her. “Thanks,”she added, “but now really ain't the time.” “Wasn't trying anything,” replied Jayne. “Guess I've had more than I thought,” Zoe said, kneeling down to pick up the pieces. “Yep, I was born and raised on Hera,” she resumed, “Halfway around the world from Serenity Valley, though. Home was never touched by the war. Never thought of going back, though—just wasn't the same person.” She looked up over her shoulder at Jayne, who was holding out one of the room's intricately-carved serving trays, and placed the glass shards on that. “What 'bout you?” she asked. “I know you didn't fight, what'd you do instead?” “Grew up, mainly,” Jayne said. “I was only 14 when it started. Seemed no point, by the end.” “Wasn't,” said Zoe. “'Cept for looking out for your friends. Tyen shiao duh, I miss Wash.” Jayne just nodded, watching as the ship flew on, over the horizon. “You ever lose something like that?” Zoe asked. “That you just couldn't live without?” “Not yet,” Jayne said, finishing his drink. After a pause, he added, “Thought I might have, but I'm still alive.” He set his drink down carefully, and asked “What happened on Verbena, anyway?” Zoe sighed. “The main Independent HQ was on Verbena,” she explained. “They couldn't take it. They tried three times, and never could make good a landing. A couple months before Serenity Valley, General Lang tried again. Only the landing was prepped by a few dozen fusion bombs. Wasn't enough left of the HQ to surrender, and the area's still unlivable.” She laughed bitterly. “Mal and I were stationed there. Wasn't a week before the attack our unit was transferred to the attack on Hera. Lots of good folk turned to glass that day.” She sighed. “It was a good six years, after that.” “You're talking like it's all over,” Jayne said. “Wash is gone,” Zoe said, “Simon's staying here and taking Kaylee with him. It's breaking up, Jayne. Nothing's going to be like it was.” “They say on Aberdeen,” Jayne began. “Gorram it, that saying doesn't make any sense.” He capped one of the open bottles. “Probably should put all this away before you hit the sack. Let me give you a hand.” “I'm all right,” Zoe said. “Just want to watch the stars a bit.” “No more drinking, though,” Jayne admonished, closing up the other two bottles and setting them back in the opened liquor compartment. “I'll be all right.” “I once worked with a fellow started drinking like this,” Jayne said. “Was after a job went wrong, he'd shot a girl on the street. Just an accident, target ducked, but he took it hard. I'm not saying he didn't ought to, but he did more'n that. We had money from an earlier job, he drank that up, 'cept for a bit me and the others sent to the girl's family. Then we didn't have money or work and he kept at it. Missed our next job, which went wrong too. I don't know what happened to him...I left that bunch 'fore too long.” “Don't worry about me,” Zoe said sharply. “I won't end up like that.” “Promise?” Jayne asked, heading back to the stairs. “Promise,” said Zoe, looking back up at the stars.