Mal stared at the wave-screen, trying to keep his face impassive. He was looking into a large, weapon-filled room with guns and swords and things that looked as if someone had made a gun out of sword, hanging from the walls. There were other things hanging on the wall too—bad things. Things normal buyers of much needed medical supplies wouldn’t normally be carrying around and certainly wouldn’t be so brash as to display for him to see.

"These are not people to be taken lightly," Zoe muttered from behind him.

Wash craned a neck over to where they were standing at the co-pilot’s station, "What? What does that mean? Should I be flying the other way now?"

Zoe motioned him away with an upraised palm, "These don’t look like the type Inara would be dealing with," she said, addressing Mal.

A round, bearded face appeared on the screen with a half grin. His oval eyes were wide and dark, and he had a tanned face with a pale scar across his nose. Mal knew from the description he and Inara had been given that this was his client.

"Sorry to keep you, Captain. I trust all is well?" Liam Chou said.

Mal pretended not to notice to sword-gun-boom thingy now partially hidden behind Chou. "Absolutely. Absolutely. Just wanted to verify coordinates, make sure there’s a target where I’m pointed and all."

The round face smiled, "I am indeed here as your target, Captain Reynolds. You will make it quick I understand?"

Mal smiled and motioned a hand, unseen to Chou, toward Wash who understood and asked even more of the engines, "We’re at full burn right now, should be no more than mid-day tomorrow before we intercept. I hope that’s quick enough for you?"

When Chou smiled, Mal felt his belly stir. Although the man was no different than a hundred others he’d dealt with in his life, he felt his brow getting hot over this one. He wiped a damp palm on his pant leg and steadied himself on the console.

"That will be fine, Captain. We will be quite ready by the time you get here."

Chou ended the conversation on his end and the screen went black.

"I don’t feel good about this," Zoe said as Mal turned to face her.

"Me either," Mal agreed. "I’ll go talk to Inara. See what else she knows about this guy. I swear, I thought this was gonna be a legit run. Zoe, you’re sweating. Get Kaylee on the horn and see what the hell is wrong with the temperature on this boat."

Wash waited for Mal to leave. "Gorram whores," He said and laughed at his own attempt to make fun of Mal.

Zoe turned to him and he watched the way her sweat rolled down her neck and into her shirt. In his mind’s eye he saw smooth beads against her dark skin curve into the wonderful valley between her–

"Wash, honey?"

"Um, huh?"

Zoe moved toward him in a way he’d never seen her move outside the privacy of their bunk. Her hips swayed and her long gorgeous legs strained against her tight pants. "I want babies."

"Oh," he said, reaching for the autopilot.

In his bunk Jayne started hearing noises—not loud noises, not big clanky noises, just noises that didn’t sound right. Something was scratching at the hull, moving through the bay below him, trying to be stealthy. Jayne was not easily fooled by such techniques, however. Someone had obviously stolen into the shuttle and hid from Mal and Inara because they were dumbasses and didn’t think to look like he would have. He slid a big buck knife out of his boot and crept from his quarters.

He had already heard Book, Simon and River return to their rooms earlier, so he knew it wasn’t none of them. Leaning over the rail, he looked down into the cargo bay. It appeared empty, so he crept down the stairs and cursed himself each time his old boots squeaked against the catwalk.

Halfway down the stairs he heard the scratching again. He was on the floor in three big steps, his weight echoing loudly, eliminating his element of surprise in favor of speed.

He stepped toward the infirmary, pausing momentarily to admire how frightening he looked in the Med Bay’s dark windows. To someone hiding in the dark he would appear large and intimidating. If it was the doc’s crazy-assed sister in there, well, she was in for the fright of her life. If it was her. If it weren’t something else.

Like Reavers.

Jayne tried to shrug off the shiver that went down his spine. He knew better than that. There were no Reavers on this ship. It was something else. Some stowaway or some kind of damn space cat or something.

Still, maybe he should inch back up the bay and go grab something bigger than the knife. Nothing made the bumps in the night go boom like Vera did.

He heard the scratching noise again, like claws against metal, and knew it was definitely in the infirmary. In the dark infirmary. Scratching like metal and maybe a little breathing too. He blinked sweat out of his eyes and tried to ignore the burn. He wasn’t about to rub them. It would mean taking his eyes away from the door, from whatever it was inside waiting to gut him like a fish.

He was definitely going back to get a gun.

Maybe two.

He laughed silently in the darkness. He had snuck past Jayne’s bunk easily enough. It was something at which he was quite good. And now he was playing games—something else he was good at. He figured the big man would have made it to the door and he was waiting to pounce on him. He felt the need to hit someone—hard—to flex his muscles and use the skills he had buried for so long. The brute would be a good challenge and he would fight hard and furious if he were pushed just right. A boxing match would be over too quick. He wanted Jayne filled with fear and the desire to survive. Wanted to bring out the animal and then beat him down.

He must have knocked out the cooling unit when he shorted the lights though. His skin was on fire and he fought to control his breathing. He would fight them all if he had too. If he wanted to. They would all finally see just who they had brought on board.

Shepherd Book smiled and wiped a drenched forearm across his brow. If he knew Jayne, he knew the big man was coming back and this time more heavily armed.

"Hey ‘Nara, brought you some stew!’ Kaylee chirped as the door to the Companion’s shuttle opened. "Just ‘cause the Captain is a big meanie, don’t mean you shouldn’t eat."

Inara laughed lightly at this and stepped to the side, allowing Kaylee into her rooms. "That was nice of you, Kaylee, but I told you I wasn’t hungry. That’s the only reason I didn’t join you for dinner—Mal had nothing to do with it."

Kaylee rolled her eyes. "Right. You’ll excuse me if I don’t believe you?" Placing the tray on one of the small tables beside the settee, she wiped a hand across her brow. "You finding it hot in here?"

"No, actually, it’s quite comfortable." Inara looked at the stew and wrinkled her nose in distaste. "That doesn’t smell very appetizing."

"It’s not." Kaylee unzipped her jumpsuit and pulled the material away from her chest. "So, really, ‘Nara. What were you and the Cap’n fightin’ ‘bout when you came back? I’m a big girl, I can handle it."

"It was nothing. Something stupid…" Inara sighed. "He said I was good at setting up jobs."

"And that made you angry why?"

"Because I’m a Companion and he knows it. I don’t want to set up jobs for his smuggling and thieving. I’m a professional."

"Cap’n probably didn’t mean nothing by it," Kaylee smiled. "He just likes ruffling your feathers and he…Hey—you hear that?"

"No, what?"

"That…knocking. You don’t hear it?" She bit her lip, concentrating, before shaking her head. "Must’ve been my imagination. Now, about the Cap’n—I don’t think you should let what he says bother you so much. He likes to tease, like boys do when they’re interested in you. I think you should sleep with him."

"Kaylee!" Inara looked shocked. The younger girl was grinning at her, unrepentant.

"What? Don’t tell me ya ain’t thought about it. You’re a woman, ‘Nara. And he’s a man—a fine-looking man who hits all kinda sparks offa you. It wouldn’t be like it is with some that pays you…Did you HEAR that?"

Inara frowned as Kaylee moved towards the door of her shuttle. "Being a Companion is about more than getting paid for sex, Kaylee. I thought you understood that. And things aren’t like that between Mal and I and—what are you doing?"

The younger girl had her ear pressed against the shuttle door. "There’s something wrong with Serenity. Can’t you hear her cryin’?"

"Kaylee…"

"Listen, ‘Nara—you do what you want." Kaylee turned to her as she fumbled to open the shuttle door. "I don’t see no sense in all this fancy dancing you and the Cap’n do around each other when it’s obvious a roll in the sack would do you both some good, but it’s your life so do what you want. I gotta go now, though. Something’s wrong in the engine room."

She fought the urge to run down the hall. The noise was getting louder. Serenity was in trouble and it was going to be her fault they all died. What had she missed? Did she leave something open? Did a tool fall into the engine? The Captain was going to kill her: if she didn’t kill them all first.

"Kaylee!" Mal called from behind.

"Captain." she acknowledged without stopping.

Jayne was coming up the stairs from the bay looking serious and determined.

"Kaylee," he said, keeping a tight pace, "Mal."

"Jayne?" Mal questioned as the man as he passed by him.

Simon was coming up the other stairs and noticed them all. "Kaylee!" he yelled across the room.

"Simon!" River called from below.

Jayne disappeared into the front hall heading to the safety of his bunk and Vera. Kaylee, mentally dissecting the engine, ignored Simon and entered the engine room. Simon ran across the catwalk to the rear stairs and called after Kaylee again.

Mal looked over at the door to Inara’s shuttle and then down into the cargo bay where River was still looking up.

"River."

"Mal."

He headed for Inara’s shuttle.

"My brother is an idiot," River said to no one.

Behind her in the dark she heard breathing and soft steps on the infirmary floor. She heard the angry voices in her mind.

"Hello?" She stood at the door, smiling. "I know you’re in there Shepherd Book. Why are you working in the dark…and crouching under the counter?"

Book said nothing.

"You know, Jayne went to get his gun. But he’s scared now. I don’t think he’s coming back."

She walked up to the main door of the infirmary, poked her head in and reached a hand around to turn on the lights. "Are you hurt?"

The lights did not come on so she shut her eyes and stepped into the dark room and was immediately barraged by the rush of anger directed at her. The intense emotion almost threw off her balance, but she was still able to dodge Book when he lunged at her. She squeezed her eyes even tighter and listened. The room would tell her all she needed to know, and she would move like a tree in a storm, arms blocking and countering on their own like branches in a gale.

Book was mad, filled with hate and aggression and thoughts that weren’t entirely his own. She tried to keep out of the way of his attacks as long as she could. Book was her friend and she didn’t want to hurt him. He was enraged though, striking at her ferociously. If she didn’t do something soon neither of them would ever be the same again. Lowering her shoulder, she turned her head, a million calculations running through her brain. She struck out hard, harder than she ever thought she could. When her fist connected against Book’s jaw she almost fell next to him in tears.

She didn’t know if she had killed him, her hands shaking as she reached out to him, a deep scream trapped in her throat. When she felt his chest rise and fall in rhythm, she sighed in relief. When she felt the thoughts streaming from his unconscious body though, she recoiled.

She knew what had scared Jayne.

Mal paused near the outside of Inara’s shuttle for just a moment before walking into her room. Soft light and softer fragrances pulled him toward the center of Inara’s room. His shirt was sticking to his back and he could feel sweat running down it. He felt dirty and unwelcome and he found himself pushing his hair to one side and wiping his soaked palms on his pants.

He didn’t even know why he was here. He knew it was something to do with the job, something he needed to understand before they got there. But those thoughts were leaving him with each step. He felt heavy and clumsy and, at the same time, distant and lost as if he was himself a ghost haunting a life he should have never known.

When he saw her she was turned away from him facing the mirror. The olive skin of her back glowed in the soft light. Her dark hair was pulled to one side as a brush slid through it, like Serenity through the stars. A silk robe fell off her shoulders and flowed to the floor in a single sweep, creating the sense that she was actually part of the ship.

"Damn," he whispered.

Inara jumped up and turned quickly making sure the robes were tight against her, "Don’t you ever knock?"

Mal stepped in further, "I’ve been here plenty of times. Never found it locked once."

"I never knew I had to. Maybe that’s changed as well?"

"See, this is what we do. I come in, we yell, I leave. We never get anywhere. I’ve got all kinds of defenses, layers you’ve never even seen. But I’m tired of it."

"Mal, if this is some kind of joke…"

"Things ain’t always been right with us," he said taking a seat on the small couch next to her dressing table, "Some of that’s me, some of that’s you. I know I’ve been hard and judgmental and that you do enjoy your stubbornness."

Mal sniffed and tried to clear his head. He leaned back and cringed as his soaked shirt pressed tighter against his back. There were shadowed and hardened places in his head that were screaming at him to get up and run back to the bridge, back to the safety of jobs and clients and not enough money, back to the empty spaces between worlds where he thrived. But he could not get himself to move. Instead, he sat nervously in her shuttle. A place he’d been a hundred times before with not so much as a thought toward not belonging there. He felt like he was thirteen again, sitting with his dusty hat in Mrs. Puli’s parlor, waiting to apologize for knocking down her fence with the tractor.

"Now I know you may not want to hear any of this," he said, "And god knows I never thought I’d be saying it to you, but we’re coming to a crux here. What I said earlier on today…what I said too many times…listen, I never had a problem with Companions. Not a one. If I did, do you think–"

Inara stood up, "If this is some long segue into why I’m not good enough to be on your precious ship–"

Mal reached out a sweaty palm to grab her hand, "Good enough? I never had any doubts about that, not a one. Not a single one." He kept his grip on her hand tight and sure, but she yanked it back, her face pale except for two high spots of color on her cheeks.

"I’m not sure what you want me to say here," she said backing away from the couch.

"I’m not asking you to say anything. I just had the need to come here and maybe look at you one last time."

"One last time?"

Mal lowered his head, "I know you’re leaving. I’ve known it from the day you walked on my boat. And I resented you and I resented myself too because I knew I could never make it good enough for you to stay."

Inara stepped slowly toward him and sat on the couch, "It’s not that–"

Mal looked away, words and thoughts sticking in his throat. He swallowed hard and wondered if his heart was going to come right out and make an entrance.

"As much as I wanted to though…I mean all I’ve seen and done and all the skies I put my head under—damn, none of this is…it’s just that…I bought this boat because I couldn’t stand being on the land anymore. Because everywhere I stepped someone else could tell me to get the hell off of it and even when I tried to fight I lost-"

"Mal, I know-"

"But no matter how many times I get in Serenity and leave, I’m always going to be someone who belongs on the ground. And you’re not. Your whole life is moving from place to place and knowing all these…damn people that you do. Every time I hear that shuttle dock it’s like someone taking a knife to my gut because I know you’ve been somewhere and with someone—hell, I never had a problem with Companions like I said. I just hate that you're one. Because it means you’re never going to just be with me."

Inara took her hand and placed it on his forearm, her robes fell back into place exposing the smooth skin of her neck. Mal wanted nothing more than to trace that smooth column with his lips. That would tell her all the things his words were never going to be able to do.

Inara got up from the couch and walked toward the door, "I’m just going to close this now."

By the time Simon reached the engine room, his vest was hanging open and two more buttons at the top of his shirt had been freed. Kaylee, who had been rooting through her tools, looked up and smiled when he walked in. He grinned back and leaned casually against the wall.

She looked good—she always looked good—but today, there was something different about her. Just being in the same room with her made his heart speed up. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

"Think you mentioned I was pretty, once," Kaylee replied, bending down to her tools again. "You seen my quad pry around? I need it, and it ain’t where I left it."

"Forget about it for now. Why don’t you take a break and we can go back to my bunk and talk." He stepped forward when he said this, crouching down beside her and placing a hand on her knee. "We never spend time together—just the two of us. I think we should rectify that."

Kaylee pushed his hand from her knee. "No can do, Simon. I gotta million things to do here, my tools are all over the place and…" she paused, cocking her head to the side. "You hear that noise? Something’s loose. She’s screaming at me and I don’t know where."

"Forget about the engine, bao bei. I didn’t hear anything." The hand Kaylee had removed from her knee lifted to her face, his fingers tracing the shell of her ear as he positioned himself closer to her. "You’ve been trying to get me to yourself since I came onboard—here’s your chance."

"Timing’s bad, though," Kaylee averred. "Cap’n depends on me to keep us flying and I ain’t got time for flirtations with—you sure you don’t hear nothin'?" Rising to her feet she scurried towards the back of the room, straining her head to one side. "Sounds like it’s coming from over here somewheres."

With a sigh, Simon rose to his feet and followed behind her. "Kaylee–"

"Shh—can’t hear nothing with you yammering. Be quiet a second." She stopped suddenly and pressed her ear up against a panel. "Think it’s coming from in here." Frowning, she tried to nudge Simon out of her way. He refused to budge though, instead grabbing her hands and lifting them to his partially buttoned shirt.

"Kaylee—I’ve wanted this for so long." He dipped his head to her neck and nuzzled against her, pressing her into the bulkhead. She was so warm. "The only thing you hear is the beating of my heart."

She snorted at that. "I ain’t got time for this. You want us to explode?"

"That’s the general idea," Simon muttered. "Kaylee–"

She squeezed out from under his arms. "You know what—I think I know what the problem is." She headed back toward the engine and dropped to her knees beside a hinged access panel. "There’s a rod needs lubing here I bet."

"Yes there is," Simon agreed heatedly.

"Hand me the little screw-driver over there with the red handle, will ya?"

"Fine." The tool was slapped into her hand unceremoniously. "But I think you’re over-reacting."

"And I don’t," her voice was muffled. "What was I thinking when I attached this to the converter?"

"You’re a tease, Kaylee."

"I’m a mechanic, Simon. Now, hand me those slip gaps and shut up or leave me alone. I got a lotta work to do."

"But Kaylee…"

"I ain’t here to scratch your itch—you're lookin' for a little relief, go find ‘Nara—or do yourself. I’m too busy trying to keep this ship in the air right now—ain’t got time for you. Now, get out."

"Ohhh, lover…that feels good." Wash groaned throatily, lifting a hand to Zoe’s head and tangling his fingers in her hair. "I never knew you were so very talented…."

From her position at his feet, Zoe looked up at her husband from under her eyes and pouted. "I’ve been remiss in my wifely duties, then. I should massage your feet every night—you work hard all day. I should be more understanding of that."

"Yes, you should, bao-bei. I wear the pants in this relationship–"

"Unless I take them off you," Zoe purred. Wash smirked at that and wiggled his toes against her palm.

"Less talk and more with the foot rub, woman. Then we can talk about my pants, or lack thereof. Although, if you want to continue this naked, feel free to strip."

"Actually, darling, I wanted to talk to you about our family. I really think it’s time for us to have babies." Zoe rose to her knees as she spoke, positioning herself between his thighs. "It’s time, honey." Her fingers slid to the zipper of his jumper, lowering it and sliding inside, nails raking across the ribbed cotton undershirt he wore underneath. "I’m ready."

The hand Wash had tangled in her hair dropped to her shoulder before reaching up and cupping her face gently. "My darling Zoe, we’ve had this discussion before. What would we do with a baby? We’re flying all over the universe on a smuggling ship, for Buddha’s sake. Adventuring…narrowly avoiding death…shooting things…having sex whenever we want…" He growled this last bit suggestively and leaned in for a quick kiss. "A baby would just cramp our style. Trust me on this—I’m the man. I know what’s best for you."

Zoe’s hands were pushing down on the sleeves of his jumpsuit, helping him shrug out of it, her face wistful. "Just think about it, though. We could get a little place somewhere—give up this life. I could stay home with the children…we could be like the Fryes."

"Farmers? You’ve got to be kidding me! I’ve got to fly, Zoe, you know that. A baby would just tie us down."

"You don’t think I could do it, do you? You don’t think I’d be a good housewife."

"Bao-bei, that’s not true at all," Wash rose to his feet, dragging Zoe up with him as he started undoing her vest. "I just can’t see myself giving up this exciting life we lead now to become a dirt farmer and father. Maybe in a few more years…when we’re tired of excitement and ready to settle down…we can practice making a baby, though. I don’t have any problems with that." He waggled his brows at her suggestively.

"But sweetie–"

"No, Zoe—enough. We’re not ready yet and that’s final. Now strip. Your husband wants to see you naked."

"Yes, husband," Zoe replied meekly. "You’re the boss."

River left Book unconscious in the dark and ran as fast as she could from the infirmary, panic welling up inside her. She knew they were all in trouble. Simon wasn’t in his bunk or in the engine room with Kaylee. She couldn’t feel him anywhere. His pattern was lost in the confusion of all the others echoing in her head.

She didn’t know why all the patterns were shifting so much. She’d felt the shift herself when Simon had given her the drug but it had been slight. Something tiny that barely made her feel any different, just happy and calm. She’d seen all the tension on their faces. She wanted that for them. For all they’d done for her. Shiny lives for a few moments.

And then she had a flash of something else, something deeper and darker inside her own soul. It was just a faint image. People lying as still as puppets. Not sleeping.

"SIMON!" she yelled out skidding to a halt in the middle of the hall. Simon would fix this. She would tell him what she’d done and he’d fix it like he always fixed everything.

The bridge was empty but she could feel voices all around her.

Under her.

Down in the bunks.

She saw Jayne’s first and ran to it. Big Jayne. Strong Jayne. She’d tell him about Book and then maybe he’d fix it and–

NO!

She could never tell anyone about Book. She’d seen what they’d done to Simon when she thought he wasn’t her brother. What would they do to the Shepherd if they knew he’d tried to hurt her? What would they do to him if they knew what he’d been?

She banged her fists against Jayne’s locked door.

"Jayne!" She yelled. "They’re all in trouble. Jayne!"

She kept calling his name, beating on the door. Inside the room she felt his fear and paranoia screaming at her. He would hate her now. Have reason to hate what she’d done to him. Body quivering, she started to cry. Jayne was backed into the corner of his room, afraid. What had she done to him?

She wiped her eyes and started pounding on the door again, "Jayne, please! It’s River, It’s River!"

Continue to part three