Just keep a straight face, she said to herself. Everything will be fine, if you keep a straight face.

Zoe Warren laid a hand over her throat, felt the pulse beating there, and took comfort in the slow, steady rhythm. However, as she walked down the steps to the cargo bay where the crew was gathered, that pulse quickened. She’d seen the looks of pity and sympathy on everyone’s face over the past week, and it was driving her insane. She’d rather be looked upon in contempt than pity.

The cargo bay was full up with the crew. Kaylee stood with her arms wrapped over River’s shoulders. The girl looked upset, her head bowed and her skin was pale. Her grief over this day was momentarily forgotten as she wondered what was wrong with the girl.

Simon stood behind Kaylee, watching her closely with a satisfyingly blank expression. It was neither warm nor cool, nor was it filled with pity. At least not for her. Inara had her arms crossed over her chest as if she were cold, which made no since, considering the warm air pouring in over the open ramp.

Jayne was making love to Vera, checking her over with his hands, making sure she was in perfect working order, his mind on the mission at hand and nothing more.

Mal stood on the slope of the ramp, looking out at the landscape before him. Spring was in full swing on this moon, Cerberus. The trees were full, the grass was tall and green, and flowers grew in pretty, colorful clusters over the field. The captain turned at the sound of her footsteps, hollow on the metal grating.

“Who died?” Zoe asked, knowing how callous she sounded, asking a question like that on this of all days, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t even bothered by Kaylee’s sharp look of disapproval.

“What do you mean, asking something like that today?” Kaylee demanded.

“It’s all in here,” River whimpered. She pointed to her heart. “It’s all here. It pours in like a flood and I can’t push it back. I can’t make it stop.”

“Can’t push what back?” Zoe asked, feeling a strange sense of calm pour over her. It was as if today was just another day, and she had no loss to mourn.

“River’s having a bad day,” said Inara. “We all are.”

“Sooner we make the trade, the sooner we can be on our merry way,” Mal said. “Zoe, Inara, you’re with me. Jayne, we’ll signal when it’s time to bring the cargo.”

“Right,” Jayne said, but then he came up short, looking away from Vera for the first time. “What? You want Inara to go ‘stead of me?”

“The client has a…thing for Companions,” Zoe said. “He found out we had one on board and refused to seal the deal unless we brought her along.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Inara said, her normally smooth, calm tones sounded short and snappish.

“Zoe, the mule?”

Mal had taken to having Zoe drive the mule in Wash’s place, and she often shared piloting duties with him and River. She knew his reasons-he didn’t want her to shy away from anything that made her think of her late husband. He wanted her to remember, to feel the hurt, to grieve, instead of pushing it down and pretending it wasn’t there. He even had Wash’s toys permanently affixed to the helm.

“It’s just a can of horse jiz,” Jayne said, frowning in disgust. “Why don’t you take it with ya?”

“Because we’ve never dealt with this man,” Mal said. “I don’t know if I can trust him not to try and stiff us. You’ll bring the can when I give you the signal.”

* * *

The ride to the trade point would have been enjoyable had Zoe’s mood not darkened with every passing mile. It seemed that each second that ticked by darkened her mood. The calm she’d felt on Serenity was gone now. The beauty of the Spring day, the warm, flower-scented air, the bright sun in the cloudless sky did nothing to sooth her or lighten her heart.

It’s been a year already, Zoe found herself thinking. Right now, it feels like it could have been yesterday.

The house where the deal would take place was a small, ultramodern structure, all silver and reflective glass, clean lines and sharp angles. It stood out in strange, unflattering relief against the old-fashioned red barn nestled at the base of a nearby hill, and corral where two golden palomino’s pranced prettily together, enjoying the warm weather.

A little girl of about ten years stood on the fence with a middle-aged man who had graying temples and the first deepening lines of age around his eyes and mouth. He was handsome, with most of his hair jet black and wavy, a strong, proud jaw line, and as Zoe approached him with Mal and Inara, she saw that he also possessed piercing gray eyes that raked over her from head to toe, sizing up, judging. His gaze lingered on the mare’s leg strapped to her hip, but his smile was quick and easy, revealing perfect white teeth.

Then he turned his attention to Inara, and his smile changed. It was still friendly, but it was laden with unabashed lust that was hot and unencumbered by any sort of humility. Zoe found herself mildly offended on Inara’s behalf. She looked at the Companion, who stood with her back straight, meeting the man’s gaze as if unaffected by his attention in either a positive or negative fashion. Mal, on the other hand, didn’t seem to appreciate the man staring so hard at Inara.

“Mr. Zellager?” Mal said, calling the man’s attention away from Inara.

“Yes, Mr. Reynolds. Allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Celina. Celina, this is one of Daddy’s acquaintances, Mr. Malcolm Reynolds and his friends…uh…”

“Zoe Warren, Inara Serra. Zoe, Inara, this is Caleb Zellager.”

“The Companion. Celina, you said you wished to meet a registered Companion outside of your family, here she is.”

“Hello Miss Serra,” Celina said primly. She delivered a perfect curtsey. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“The honor is all mine, Miss Zellager,” Inara said, offering the girl a genuine smile and a curtsey in return.

“Celina has recently told me that her chosen profession in life shall be that of a Companion,” Caleb said. Zoe felt herself blanch inside, though her face remained impassive. She wondered what she would have felt had her daughter told her that she wanted to grow up to be a whore. She doubted she’d have reacted with favor, as Caleb Zellager seemed to be.

“Is that a fact?” Inara said, looking at the girl with renewed interest. She seemed to be sizing her up, as if trying to decide whether or not the girl was Companion material, or possibly could be in the future. Inara reached out and tilted the girls head back, examining her. “You’re very pretty. I believe you’ll grow into a beautiful young woman. How old are you?”

“Eleven. I’ll be twelve next month.”

“Twelve is the proper age in which to begin training for-”

“What?” Mal asked, startled. “They start ‘em out at twelve? That’s sick!”

“They don’t start that at twelve, Mal,” Inara said, annoyance in her voice.

“Did you start at twelve?” Mal asked.

“Yes, I did.”

“Miss Serra, I would be very appreciative if you could counsel my daughter on what it means to be a proper Companion.”

“She should speak with a representative from the Official Companion Recruiting Council. I’m hardly qualified to dissuade her-”

“Dissuade?” Caleb said, laughing, “heaven’s no, my dear. Both my father and mother were Companions. I am a former Companion myself. I have no desire to dissuade her at all.”

Inara kept her face neutral.

“I will be happy to pay your standard fee for your time.”

“It’s not about the pay, Mr. Zellager.”

Mal’s eyebrows shot up and the look on his face clearly said to take it. Inara was too cultured to roll her eyes, but Zoe could tell that she wanted to.

“Agreed,” Inara said with a small sigh. “Though I fail to see why you don’t counsel her yourself, considering you’re a trained Companion.”

“She doesn’t believe anything I tell her,” Caleb said. “I think she’d rather hear from a stranger than her father. You know how children of this age can be.”

The girl looked so hopeful that Inara actually smiled and held out a hand. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”

“I’d like to show you my room,” Celina said. “I’ve got pictures of three generations of Companions on father’s side that I’d like to show you.”

Inara was led off by Celina, and Caleb turned his attention to Zoe. “Shall we retire to my office to talk business?”

“Shiny,” Mal said.

* * *

“You have deep sadness in your eyes,” Caleb said, sitting down behind his desk. Mal had begged off for the bathroom, when he was most likely checking out the layout of the house and comparing it to the schematics they’d studied to make sure there hadn’t been any remodeling that could hinder a clean escape. “You’ve suffered a deep tragedy recently. Or it feels as if its recent.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with this transaction,” Zoe said tersely.

“I’m crossing the line, I know. I’m making it personal, but you must remember, I’m a Registered Companion, even though I’ve retired. I hold a degree in psychology as most Companions do.”

“I didn’t come here to be counseled,” Zoe said.

“I know when to back off,” Caleb said, “but if you change your mind…sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger. You may have my ear at any time.”

“Thanks, but that won’t be necessary.”

Zoe looked out of the transparent wall that offered a view of the corral. The horses were being fed apples by a farm hand, and she remembered a long ago conversation with Wash, in which he’d told her that he wanted to own a ranch and raise horses, and that he’d even been saving up for that future. She’d been given the access codes to his account upon his death, and had been surprised at the sum he’d managed to save up. If she kept adding to it, in five years she’d have enough to have a small ranch of her own.

But he won’t be there to share it with you, Zoe thought. Damn it, sir, where are you?

Zoe’s attention was pulled from the horses as Mal entered the office and sat down. She was relieved he'd finally returned.

“Let us get down to business,” Caleb said. “Did you procure the product?”

“Twelve ounces of thoroughbred sperm,” Mal said, a slightly disgusted look on his face. “It’s preserved, on my boat. I’m just waiting to give the signal to bring it in.”

“And how did the heist go? Any complications I need to worry about?”

“We were in and out, fast and quiet,” Mal said. “I doubt they even know it’s gone right now.”

“Good,” Zellager said, seemingly pleased. “Go ahead and give the signal to bring it.”

Mal smiled. “We’ve never dealt before, so I’m going to tell you how it works. You show me the gold, and then I show you the product.”

“How do I know you won’t take the gold and run?”

“How do I know you really have the gold?”

Zellager’s eyes settled on Zoe.

“Do you have the product?”

“We do.”

Zellager stood and went to a wall safe that appeared when he waved his hand over what had seemed like a section of blank wall. After opening it, he pulled out a sizable bag and sat it down before Mal.

“I’ll wait while you count it.”

“No need,” Mal said. “If it’s off, I’ll come back to collect the rest, and I’ll be none too happy to have to do that. Believe me, you don’t want me to come back pissed off.”

“I’m sure I don’t,” Zellager said, smiling easily as if Mal had not threatened him in the least.

Mal took out a pocket communicator and pressed a red button in the center.

“Signal sent. They’ll be here by the time we collect Inara and get to the front door. You’ll receive your product, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Very good, though I’d hate for you to rush off. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“No,” Zoe said, as Mal had opened his mouth to respond. “We’ve got business elsewhere.”

Caleb bowed his head and touched a com panel on his desk. “Miss Serra, your party is ready to depart.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right down.”

The group made their way through the lavishly decorated house and met Inara at the base of the main stairwell. Celina bowed and Inara returned it.

“How did the talk go?” Caleb asked.

“I’ve decided that I want to go to the Academy next month, father,” Celina said. Caleb kissed her hand.

“I’ll tell grandma and grandpa. They’ll be thrilled.” Caleb took out a data sheet and brought up his account. After keying in her own account number, Caleb transferred Inara’s fee, just as Serenity landed near the corral.

Caleb and Celina escorted them to the ship. Jayne, holding a small silver container by his fingertips as if it were tainted with some deadly disease, approached and handed it to Caleb.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” Caleb said. “Miss Warren.”

Zoe nodded politely, just barely, and walked onto the ship.

“The mule-” Mal began, but Zoe’s nerves were feeling suddenly raw.

“Get it yourself, sir,” Zoe said. She passed River.

“I’ve pushed it back,” River said. “It’s yours again.”

Zoe didn’t look back as she ascended the stairs, and she didn’t see the look of stunned disbelief on the faces of the crew, especially Mal. Zoe never talked to the captain like that.

* * *

Zoe shed her last tear and, her breath hitching in ghostly echo of her sobs, stood and went to the mirror. Her quarters were dark, but not so dark that she couldn’t see her reflection in the mirror over the sink. She blew her nose, rinsed her face, and then stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to ease her aching muscles.

When she came back out to the bunk she found Mal leaning against the ladder leading to the deck above.

“Sir? What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been here for almost an hour,” he said.

“That’s impossible. I would have heard you come in,” she said, going to her bed and sitting down. She bundled the wet towel in her hands together and hugged it close.

“You wouldn’t have noticed a bomb exploding, the way you were crying,” said Mal. He sat down next to her.

“You shouldn’t have been in here,” she said. “I could have come out of the shower naked.”

“I’d’ve looked away,” he said. “I’m not an indecent man, and you’re my best friend.”

“Yeah…” she said.

They sat for a few minutes in silence. Zoe felt her robe soak through on her back, from her wet hair, and began to shiver. Mal put an arm around her.

“I’m sorry about earlier-”

“Don’t be sorry,” Mal said, “just don’t pretend ain’t nothin’ wrong. He died a year ago today-”

“I know that! Don’t you think I know that?” Zoe said, wanting to pull away from Mal, wanting to run away from the ship, from reality.

“Don’t you think I know what you’re feelin’?” Mal asked. “Don’t you think I know how hard it is for you to stay on this ship, seein’ his ghost everywhere you go? He was here almost as long as we were.”

“I shouldn’t have done it,” Zoe said, finally relaxing into Mal’s tight grip.

“Shouldn’t have done what?”

“I shouldn’t have let myself love him. Every time you love somebody you lose them.”

“I haven’t lost you,” Mal said. “You haven’t lost me, you haven’t lost all the crew out there who love you. We’re hurtin’ over Wash too. Not the same way you do, but we miss him.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“It’s been a year,” Mal said. “Maybe…maybe you should start thinkin’ about movin’ on.”

“I couldn’t be with anyone else,” Zoe said. “I’ll never be able to be with anyone else.”

“That’s what you said about Tiny, after he died, but then you met Wash,” Mal said.

“Men aren’t constant,” Zoe said. “They go away.”

“I’ve been constant,” Mal said.

There was something in his voice that Zoe had never heard before.

“You have,” she said, not stiff, but not able to look up at her best friend, her captain, the man she called sir, even though she didn’t have to, because she was afraid to see in his eyes that unspoken question, that wondering of what could have been.

“Did you ever see me?” Mal asked softly. “When you looked for lovers, over all these years, did you ever see me?”

“Every time,” Zoe said. “But you never saw me.”

“Yeah, I did,” Mal said. “Every time.”