Part IV - Happily

There were men waiting for Serenity when she landed at the rendezvous co-ordinates; three men–two heavy lifting types, and one slim and bored looking assistant. The cargo was loaded onto an anti-grav dolly, and flanked by Jayne and Zoe, Mal was escorted into town.

Paquin was a civilised sort of place–miles ahead of most of the frontier towns where they did most of their business. Not as posh as a core would, but then, few of the planets on the Rim could come close to the opulence of Ariel or Osiris. The people they saw on the street seemed well-fed and groomed. Badger would have been entirely out of place, though Mal could easily picture Wash and Kaylee just fine, milling through the bustling streets which were crowded even at this early hour. Mostly, folks seemed to be in a hurry to get on with their business.

The transport took them trough the wide boulevards to what looked like the city centre. Office plazas gave way to elaborate parks, and he could see statues and fountains here and there. The sounds of the city faded as they pulled up to the magistrate's estate, and Mal felt his stomach lurch, seeing a purple belly who guarded the main gate. But he reminded himself that he had legitimate business–well, business anyway–with the magistrate of Han Province. The Alliance soldier didn't even spare Mal and his companions a second look as they were taken around the back to the delivery entrance.

The magistrate's estate was walled, lush gardens surrounding the clutch of single storey buildings connected by small stone and wood bridges. Koi swam lazily through the stream that wound its way between the teak and rice paper walled buildings, their golden scales shining in the early morning sun.

They were deposited in an ante-chamber while, Mr. Bored informed them, the cargo was inspected. Zoe sat on a bench, back straight, dark eyes surveying the landscape. Jayne, on the other hand, lounged in a chair that looked like it had cost as much as all of Serenity's furniture put together, with enough left over for one of Inara's fancy dresses.

They'd taken off that morning before Inara had even emerged from her shuttle.

Jayne had grumbled about missing breakfast, but one look from Mal and he had shut right up. The black mood that had taken hold of him the night before hadn't much dissipated; in fact, it seemed only to have grown darker through the long night he'd spent in fitful sleep. The companion had touched a nerve that Mal had thought had long since lost its ability to bother him. Obviously, he'd been wrong. Part of him wanted to rush to her and apologise. The rest of him was determined to stand fast, and not allow himself to be so casually manipulated. He wasn't sure which part was likely to win out. Getting paid, getting off-world, and getting the next job lined up would go a long way towards putting him in a better mood.

After an hour, Bored showed up again, looking a mite twitchy.

"Magistrate Carlysle will see you now," he said stiffly, and they followed him from the ante-chamber into the main hall. One wall was lined with screens which had been opened, and he could see the courtyard beyond. Three women sat on a stone bench–two in the subdued grey and maroon of servants, and the third was a girl, maybe Kaylee's age, dressed in gold and cream. Her pale hair shone in the morning sunlight, and she seemed engrossed in the reader in her hands, never looking up once as they were brought before the massive mahogany desk.

Magistrate Carlysle was older–maybe pushing sixty, but powerfully built with a full head of thick, steel-grey hair. Hanging behind the desk was an old-fashioned oil portrait of a handsome woman in her forties. She was like enough to the girl outside that Mal assumed she was her mother. One big happy family, then.

Carlysle gestured to a chair, but Mal continued to stand.

"Cargo checks out?" he asked, tone cordial.

"Oh yes–more than I ever expected." His eyes drifted past Mal, to the women in the courtyard and he smiled warmly. "I understand from the good doctor that the terms of the contract were half up front, half upon completion?"

"Those were the terms. Cash–if you don't mind."

"Understood." He opened the desk drawer and removed a steal box, which he opened with a small key. Removing a stack of platinum, he gestured to Bored, who bagged the loot and handed it to Mal. "I hear tell that platinum goes a bit farther than Alliance credits, out there." He gestured heavenward.

"Lotta things go a bit further out there in the black," Mal said with a shrug. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Likewise," the magistrate replied, his eyes still fixed on the girl in the courtyard.

The crew was lounging in the mess when they got back to Serenity, sunlight streaming in from the windows set into the ceiling above the table. Mal could see dust motes floating in the air, the room twice as bright as it usually got when they were out in the black. It reminded him suddenly of the kitchen at the ranch–and how there had always been a handful of hands in the house, playing cards, trading stories, cooking and helping with the washing up. It reminded him of family, and he couldn't keep from grinning at that thought.

"You missed breakfast," Wash said as he gave his wife a kiss on the cheek as she settled into his lap, arms draped around his neck.

"But we brought back lunch and dinner." Her dark eyes sparkled as the bag of coin hit the kitchen table with a musical ring.

"I love my wife." He leaned in for a kiss.

Mal's stomach growled at the smell of eggs and bacon which rose from where Kaylee was cooking at the range. Mal quirked a brow as the young doctor came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a kiss on her ear. She laughed and said something too low for him to hear.

Obviously, things had gotten settled during the night.

Mal stole a glance at Inara, who was smiling from where she sat on the cushioned benches that lined the common area–no doubt pleased that her turn at matchmaking had ended satisfactorily–but her smile faded a bit when she caught his eye, and she looked away quickly. River sat beside her, the girl's dark head bent low over her sketch pad.

Mal filled a mug with strong black tea and stole a piece of bacon from the pan before Kaylee could slap his fingers away. He carried his "breakfast" over to where Inara sat, some delicate needlepoint in her lap. Just the sort of thing a lady would busy her hands with, he supposed. He wasn't sure. Hadn't met very many ladies in his lifetime.

"Looks like our Kaylee-bird done all right for herself," he said conversationally, nodding towards the lovebirds who seemed joined at the hip, completely oblivious to the rest of them. He thought it was bad when his pilot and second hooked up. God only knew what the next few weeks were going to be like.

He still couldn't stop grinning.

"No thanks to you," Inara said sweetly, but she didn't seem quite as distant as he was afraid she would be, after their little tussle the night before.

"Can't have everything," he said, burying his smile in a sip of tea. Mal peered over River's shoulder, to see what she was drawing. "You turning artist on us, now?"

Something twisted in Mal's gut as he recognised the face in the drawing. "Pretty gal," he said, mouth suddenly dry. "Where'd you meet her?"

"We had a sleep-over," River said matter-of-factly.

"On Serenity?" Mal asked, and River nodded, frowning.

"But we couldn't braid each other's hair. Walls between us, and cold holding her fast."

He could feel Inara's eyes on him as a muscle twitched in his jaw. "Now that's a shame."

River looked up at him, brown eyes wide with clarity and something like mercy. "She doesn't know how to be her," she said simply. "But that's not your fault."

"Mal?" Inara called after him as he fled the mess. He barely made it to the head before he lost what little he'd had of breakfast.

Inara hesitated before she knocked on the door to Mal's quarters. Granted, the last time she'd barged in, she'd found him out cold on the floor and then spent the next four hours floating on the edge of consciousness herself.

She rapped sharply on the door, and listened. She could hear muttering from inside, but nothing that sounded like "Come in." Deciding it would be easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission, she gave the door a push. It slid open, and she held tightly to the skirt of her dress as she descended the ladder.

He was pacing, hands balled into fists. His movements were stiff with anger, and he didn't even slow down once he marked her presence.

"Mal? What is it?"

"What is it about this ship, and girls in gorram boxes!" Mal exploded, slamming his fist into the bulkhead.

She winced on his behalf as he shook the injured hand. "What are you talking about?"

"Breeding stock." The words could not have been filled with more venom. "Bastards turned Serenity into a slaver. Turned me into worse than that." He sat down heavily on the end of the bed. "Knew he weren't no rancher. They let me believe what I wanted to believe, and I took their money without even asking. I thought she was his daughter."

"I don't–"

"Weren't no family portrait on his gorram wall–it was a shrine. Bastard cloned his dead wife."

Inara paled when she realised what he was saying. "Cloning's illegal," she finally managed.

"So's smuggling," he replied bitterly.

"Mal," Inara laid a hand on his shoulder. "You had no way of knowing."

"I should have known. Sick sumbitch used us–and he's gonna use her." The look in his eyes was one of utter bleakness and despair. "Girl was brought into this world to be nothing more than a ghost on legs, and she'll spread for him 'cause she don't know no better. Don't know no different."

"I'm so sorry."

"Ain't nothing you can do. Ain't nothing I can do, neither." He scrubbed his face with both hands. When his eyes met hers, he just looked weary. "Not without getting this ship into a whole world of trouble, and I can't have that. Got other people to be thinkin' about."

She gave his shoulder a squeeze, wanting to tell him that it would be all right. But she couldn't push the lie past her lips.

It would not be all right. Not unless something changed. Not unless something could be done. And that was what was tearing Mal up–she could see it in his eyes.

For all of his brash posturing, Mal was a gentle, good, and decent man. She knew him well enough after a year to know that he had looked into a hold full of families decimated by Reavers–women, children, and men all gutted and mutilated–and had been able to stomach it because he at least knew enough that there was nothing he could have done to prevent it.

This was different. When Mal had first opened River's stasis module, she'd seen a hint of it then. But this... She could see from his eyes that knowing he had been a part of what amounted to the rape of an innocent child was worse. Far worse.

Inara had chosen her life, her path–been trained for it, prepared for it, taught all of the arts associated with it. But in the end, it was her choice. That poor girl, whomever she may be, had all her choices taken away from her before she was even born.

And the worst part was, she wouldn't ever know it.

"Things were going so well. Weren't things going well? There was smiling, and bacon-stealing, and such. This, to me, is usually a sign of the wellness of things."

Zoe was quiet as she stared out the forward windows at the green valley beyond, though her hand roamed over Wash's back restlessly. He reached up and curled one lock of her hair around his thumb. "Did something happen planet-side?"

"Not sure, exactly. Something about the job... Just felt off."

"We got paid."

"We did at that. But sometimes, I don't think it's just about the money." She sighed, and cupped his face in her hands, brushing his forehead with a kiss. "It's probably nothing."

"What if it's something?" Wash pressed, and that little worry line reappeared between her brows.

Before she could answer, Mal appeared at the top of the short metal staircase that led to the bridge. He didn't come all the way inside, but leaned forward, both hands braced on either side of the hatch.

"Get us out of here, Wash."

"Any place in particular?" he asked as he started up the launch sequence.

"Anywhere that ain't here." Wash wasn't going to stare, but Mal looked positively haunted. Worse than when he'd bolted from the mess that morning.

"You're the captain," Wash said with a shrug as Mal headed back down the stairs, his footsteps echoing on the metal deckplates.

Zoe shrugged, but there was an echo of the captain's haunted look in her eye as well.

"Late night?" Shepherd Book asked with a lifted brow as he observed Kaylee's valiant yet ultimately failed attempt at staving off a yawn as she opened up the access panel on the side of the mule so she could get to its innards.

She blushed as she got out her wrench and set about locating the short causing the transport vehicle to act up.

"Stayed up past my bedtime."

"Talking?" he asked, all casual-like, and she felt the blood rush into her cheeks.

Sometimes, having Shepherd aboard reminded her of what her life had been like living with her mom's folks when she was a kid. Grams and Grampap had got up to all sorts of mischief when they was young–her mom and brothers and sisters (the eldest of whom was a mite big, at nine pounds, for a premature birth) were proof enough of that. But she'd never been able to reconcile their wild past with who they were by the time she'd come along, youngest daughter of the youngest daughter. Grams was up near eighty by now, with a cloud of frizzy white hair, and Kaylee couldn't imagine her even so much as cussing, let alone, well...

Shepherd was a bit like that.

He was a man of God and all, and wise and kind. But she'd heard him cuss a blue steak a time or two–like when Jayne had dropped a weight from the weight bench on his foot, or when Niska had cut off the captain's ear. Some of the stuff he'd said when she'd found him in the passenger dorm, after that bounty hunter had laid him out, had made her blush scarlet. She knew he'd lived a life before he took up orders, but that didn't make it any more shocking when he did something that reminded her of it.

She remembered how he'd looked, when he'd come upon her and Simon in the corridor behind the galley after River'd got Jayne's gun. Like he knew just what sort of mischief she could be getting up to, and was amused and full of caution all at once. He had that same look now.

"There was all sorts of talking," she assured him, trying to ride out the blush. And she wasn't even fibbing–they had talked. Simon had asked her all about her family, and growing up in Riverside, how many cousins she had, and how she'd become a mechanic. It was like he was making up for all those nights they'd spent with her grilling him about life in the Core.

As she shone her flashlight into the mess of wires and gears, she grinned. "Well, mostly talking."

"Best get to sleep at a decent hour tonight then, child," Shepherd said, and she swore he winked at her before he went over to the weight bench to lift. It suddenly occurred to her that their merriment might well have kept Book up, him being only two rooms over from Simon's, and she could feel her cheeks burning as she nodded, and then stuck her head back inside the mule, intent on her task.

She couldn't stop grinning, though.

Simon had been like a kid with a shiny new toy. He'd been delighted as he discovered if he kissed her just below the ear, where her jaw curved, it made her shudder, while stroking the back of her neck lightly with his nails gave her gooseflesh. And there had been no stopping him once he learned just how ticklish she was. It was as if all he'd been waiting for was licence to taste, touch, and feel–and now he was mad for it.

She'd finally fallen asleep fully clothed, curled up at Simon's side on top the covers with all the lights in his room still blazing. When she'd awakened it was to find him sleeping peacefully beside her, his face buried in her hair and his arms wrapped around her. She'd hated to move, but she had to get back to her own bunk before the rest of the ship woke up. He muttered sleepily as she pulled the blanket over him, and she'd pressed a kiss to his forehead.

River had been standing in her doorway as Kaylee had crept past, and she'd given Kaylee a warm hug, whispering something about allies and surprises that Kaylee'd been too tired to decipher. She'd tiptoed past Zoe and Wash's door, and held her breath when she opened the hatch to her quarters but the ship had remained silent as a tomb as she'd climbed down the ladder.

In the end, she'd lain awake in her own bed, unable to go back to sleep. Her thoughts were buzzing around her head like a nest of hornets. It all still seemed so unreal. Like a dream that she was terrified she'd wake from. But she could touch her lips and remember the feel of his kisses–stroke her arm and recall the gentle pressure of his fingers. After being so polite and respectful for so long, it had taken her aback how passionate he could be. How carefree his smile could be, after carrying around so much fear and pain and loss.

It made her heart beat faster in her chest, knowing she could make him smile like that.

She popped the access panel back on, and crawled out so she could fire the mule up, and saw Simon staring at her from the catwalk.

"How long you been up there?" she asked, pushing her hair behind her ears with one grimy hand.

"Just a few minutes." He had forsaken his usual vest for a grey sweater, and was smiling contentedly, chin resting in his hand.

"Ain't you got work to do?"

"Everyone is annoyingly healthy today. Not even a chance of anyone getting shot at until we get wherever we're going."

She grinned. "C'mon down, then–you can gimme a hand."

He bounded down the stairs, not stopping until he had wrapped his arms around her waist and she had her back pressed up against the mule. She giggled against his lips.

"This ain't the hand I was thinking of."

"I like watching you work," he said, lips brushing her jaw. "I find you exceptionally sexy while covered in engine grease. Have I ever mentioned that?"

"Simon," she whispered as she jerked her head towards where Shepherd Book was still at the weight bench.

"We're just fornicating over here, Shepherd," Simon called over dryly, and Kaylee tried to smother her giggles by burying her face in his chest.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Book replied, continuing to heft the barbell methodically.

"Well that don't leave nothing fun at all!" Kaylee called back, and laughed as Simon pulled her close for a kiss.

"Go to dinner with me," he said as they parted, and her eyebrows shot up.

"Captain hasn't said where we're headed–"

"Here. On Serenity."

"Here?"

"Why not? We'll have a date."

"A date," Kaylee repeated, and Simon nodded.

"A dinner date. I can make dinner."

"You know how to cook?" she asked, amused at the notion. He'd always managed to trade his shifts in the mess with Shepherd Book, choosing the dishes or laundry over the cooking chores.

"Not exactly," he admitted. "But I graduated in the top three percent of my class. I'll figure it out."

She smiled, her fingers leaving a smudge of grease on his cheek as she traced the curve of his smile. "Then it's a date."

"I think the patient is dead," Mal said from the doorway as he came into the infirmary and saw Simon frowning at a plate of salmon.

"I think I overcooked it."

"Glad you're the doctor, then, and not the cook."

"What happened?" Simon asked as Mal stepped over to the sink and began rinsing his hand, wincing as the cold water hit the split knuckles.

"Got in an argument with a wall earlier today. Wall won."

"Need me to take a look at it?"

He shook his head. "Wouldn't want to get blood on your fancy shirt." He hadn't seen the doctor all decked out in his fancy duds in a while. He was quite resplendent in his shiny vest and fancy coat. "Speaking of which, you're all gussied up. Hot date?"

Simon fidgeted. Mal had to admit, he was thoroughly enjoying the young doctor's discomfort.

"Captain, I know that you haven't exactly been pleased, exactly. About me and Kaylee–"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Mal asked as he slapped a weave on his hand and headed back out the door of the infirmary.

Simon picked up the steaming plate of fish and fell in step behind him. "The part where you threatened to break my kneecaps?"

"Well, there is that." Mal smiled at the memory. "But Kaylee made her choice; I ain't gonna stand in the way of it."

"I appreciate that." Simon smiled, and he looked so damn young and earnest. Mal almost felt a twinge of guilt for his behaviour the past few days.

Almost.

"You just make sure that you've made your choice, too, and we're all gonna get along just–Wow."

Mal stopped in his tracks as Kaylee stepped through the hatch into the passenger lounge, Inara a few paces behind her, beaming.

She was wearing a dark green qipao that showed off all her curves, and there was an awful lot of silk-clad leg visible through the slit up the side. Mal was fairly certain Inara was responsible for twisting her light-brown hair into a simple but elegant style. Garnet pins caught the light as she ducked her head, blushing, and matching earrings completed the picture. She made a pretty picture, his mechanic. All cleaned up and in a fancy dress that didn't remind Mal of a tea cosy gone horribly awry, she positively glowed.

"Wow," Simon echoed Mal's sentiment, his mouth hanging open.

"You're catching flies, son," Mal said, but there was a twinkle in his eyes as Simon closed his mouth yet continued to gape. Maybe there was hope for the boy, yet.

He nudged Simon with his elbow, and the doctor moved to quickly set the plate down at the low table which Mal now noticed was lit with two candles which had miraculously survived the doc's birthday, stuck in mismatched candlesticks in the middle of the table. The doctor was grinning as he offered Kaylee his arm.

"Kaylee, you look–I mean, you look so–Wow."

"That's fancy doctor- talk for 'you clean up real nice, Miss Kaylee,'" Mal translated for his blushing mechanic as Inara glided over to his side, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

"We'll give you two some privacy," Inara said as she laid a hand on Mal's forearm and guided him towards the ladder.

"We will?" Mal asked.

"We will."

He turned back to Simon and Kaylee. "We'll be going now. You two–be good."

Kaylee missed him waggling his finger at her in his best paternal manner, however, as she was staring deeply into the doc's eyes and they might as well have already gone, those two were paying him so much mind. Inara poked him in the middle of his back surreptitiously, and he chuckled as he began climbing the ladder.

"Looks like Yeh Shen finally made it to that fancy party," Mal said when they'd reached the top, and he offered Inara his hand. She closed her fingers lightly around his, noting the fresh bandage before releasing his hand.

"Looks like." She smiled at him. "You're in better spirits."

He smiled lopsidedly, and they started down the hall towards her shuttle. "Yeah–funny thing. Zoe showed me a bulletin she just happened to pull off the cortex little bit ago. Seems the feds busted the magistrate on Paquin today for the illegal cloning of his late wife."

She didn't even pause, but kept up with him effortlessly. "Did they?"

"They did. They got tipped off by a local tailor, of all people."

"You'd be amazed the sort of thing people will let slip to the help," she said smoothly.

"I most likely would at that."

They'd reached the hatchway of her shuttle, and she didn't even mind when he followed her inside and sat on the end of the bed.

"What will happen to the girl?" she asked as she sat down at her dressing table, and began removing the pins that held her heavy curls up off her neck. She watched him in the mirror as he leaned forward, hands loosely clasped and forearms resting on his thighs.

"Probably be put into some Alliance fosterage programme." He frowned, then shrugged. "Won't be the best life I'd have picked for her, but at least she'll get a chance to be who she is, 'stead of being a ghost."

She smiled at him in the glass.

"My daddy ran out on us when I was just a kid."

She froze in the act of removing the pins from her hair. He wasn't looking at her anymore, but had his eyes focused on his boots. She wasn't sure if he'd caught her lapse, and she shook her hair free, laying the pins on the table beside her comb as carefully as she could. She was almost afraid to move–afraid she'd shatter whatever spell that made him feel he could open up to her.

"My momma raised me, and ran the third largest ranch on Shadow, and she didn't need no man to help her do it. She had three dozen men working for her, any given time–but they was working for her. Not telling her what to do. She was the strongest woman I ever knew."

Inara turned sideways in her chair so that she was facing him. "Just because she only ever showed you her strong side, doesn't mean she wasn't lonely, Mal."

Mal only frowned.

"Despite all appearances to the contrary, you're not a sishengzi. You're good, and decent, and you've never shown anything but respect for women. Hell, that pofù Saffron–"

"Now, we have established that she was playing me–" he began defensively, but she went right on as if he hadn't interrupted her.

"A man like Jayne would have been on her inside of five minutes. You're not a man like Jayne. You'll never be a man like Magistrate Carlysle. Never." His head snapped up, and she couldn't read his expression. "Doesn't matter that Saffron was playing you–what matters is what you did. And what you did was act like a gentleman."

A ghost of a smile curved at the corner of his mouth. "Except for the part where I let her kiss me while naked."

She sighed. "At least she was the one stripping down to her skin and coming on to you. You were played by a player–but she had to play you. Because you don't play games with women's hearts. That's not who you are."

He looked at her

"You're saying an awful lot of nice things about me."

"Yes. Of course, if anyone asks me, I'll deny it."

"Of course."

She leaned forward, reaching out to brush his hair away from his forehead. She expected him to pull back. He didn't.

"You were right, the other day–a woman doesn't need a man to make her worthy. But there's a tremendous strength that can be found in loving someone, and being loved in return. And that is worth something."

"They teach you that at whorin' academy?" he asked, his smile returning.

"I learned it at my mother's knee."

He chuckled, and leaned forward to brush one dark curl behind her ear. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his hand brush her cheek lightly before it dropped back down to his side.

He was very close to her. She looked up into his eyes as he leaned toward her, lips parted.

"So, you think there's any of that pie left?" he asked, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.