A/N: I don't own anything besides my own imagination. Btw, I chose to rate this story T because of the language. Yes, it is in Mandarin, but it's still bad language.

This is an Alternative Universe. In this world, Simon and River didn't board Serenity on Persephone. This fanfic takes place approximately six weeks after the Pilot Episode: Serenity, which in consequence means that Simon and River have been on their own during this time since Simon succeeded to rescue River from the Alliance.

Great many thanks too Alexander (the Magnificent), one of the better Mal-dictionaries in the world. Without him it would be less correct (and maybe less funny) reading.


Ta Ma Duh!

Status: Knife wound left side. Spleen intact. Abdominal aorta intact. Otherwise I would have bled out already. Stomach... Unconfirmed. Kidney intact. Large intestine, unconfirmed. Blood seems normal red. Medium blood flow, steady. Knife may have been poisoned, as the body feels numb and heavy when moving. Mouth dry, tongue thick and swollen. Head dizzy. Too bright lights. May be a light concussion. Can be a Grade II, probably Grade I. Stay awake.

Location: Dark alleyway, hidden from public. Chance of rescue-team, slim.

No weapons.

It was that season of the year when the late nights had a frozen air with a cloud of breath hanging out of your mouth, even though the days were hot and clammy. Her clothes had been chosen for the day's weather and not the night's. Thin veils of water vapour from the docks created small pearls of droplets on her clothes and hair. She could feel the dampness on her cheeks and the coldness that cut through her goose-bumped skin into her bones and her heart, and she knew she was dying. She had felt how the fire in her stomach continued to burn through hours and hours after she'd been stabbed, and how it seemed to burn out all the warmth and feeling from her body and brain.

She never really got used to the idea. She was a survivor. She had survived battles. She had survived slaughters. She had survived New Kashmir. She had survived the Valley. It was her experiences and her nature that helped her thinking through the situation clearly, like she wasn't the one that lay in an alley bleeding out, dying. It was her distant kind of thinking that kept her sane; it was her distant kind of thinking that destroyed her. They would never be able to find her in time. And the fire in her stomach kept on burning.

She couldn't do anything but look up at the sky and have strange, incoherent thoughts that never had an end, and just wait, wait, wait until the pain would slowly fade and her conscience with that.

It was a strangely familiar feeling to die.

She felt alive in an unattached sort of way. She felt how every breath filled her lungs with oxygen and how it increased the fire. She heard how her blood pumped in her ears and how every heartbeat worked blood and life away from her all-the-more cold body. And she had lost all her periphery and perception of colours.

"Mei-mei", a young man's voice whispered from somewhere above her. "Hold this, I need my hands."

A dimmed, darkened light exchanged hands and she felt how cold fingers carefully touched her burning, pounding pain. A moan escaped her from deep within, and she almost wished she would die or at least pass out whereas the logical, calculating part of her mind told her to stay awake. The man that was kneeling beside her wasn't Mal or Wash, judging by the silhouette, but his hands were gently tending her wound and examining her head. The one holding the lantern was a part of the darkness, but Zoe could feel soft hair falling onto her arms.

"Broken", a girl's voice stated. "But not like me. She can mend."

The man's hands paused slightly in his tending, before continuing to put pressure on the wound with a rough woolfabric.

"Help me carry her", the man said, not commenting his companion's strange words.

Three hands helped Zoe to get up, one hand holding the lantern and giving light to her helpers.

They looked a little worst-for-the-wear, but still held an air of cleanness despite the grime and dirt on their clothes and faces. The girl had long, dark hair and seemed much too small-built to carry a wounded adult. The man had un-kempt dark hair and his beard seemed to be a raunchy bird's nest. And then she almost lost consciousness when the man heaved her up into his arms even though the fire inside her seemed somewhat subdued.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

They had taken her to a shabby hotel, with an even shabbier room; given her some foul-tasting medicine and the events afterwards came to her like a blur and eventually darkness. She didn't know how much time had passed, but when she came to the burning in her stomach was gone, replaced with a pounding ache that spread through her whole stomach and up to her throat. She could feel her warm limbs again, but they were tired, so very tired and heavy like her head.

A soft voice said something incomprehensible to her and a glass of water was at her lips. And then she fell into a deep slumber.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

She was awakened by the sound of voices arguing, the girl sounding determined and the man sounding exasperated on the verge of exhausted. She pretended to be sleeping, not wanting to alert her hosts that she was awake and could hear their brawl. She discreetly evaluated the situation.

No weapons.

No obvious concussion.

Affected by medicine, effects: Drowsiness, may have poorer sight and aim.

No real threat, yet.

Their positions: Right, far corner.

"River, we can't keep her! She might have family that misses her!"

"She will keep us."

"No… no, that's not how it works…", the man stumbled on his words.

"She'll keep us, and they will have to keep us too."

"They? Who are…? No, no, River, don't touch that! Put it down… slowly…" His voice had taken the soft calming tones of a doctor talking to a dangerous or dying patient. Zoe recognized it as the voice that had given her water and held her hand during the feverish night when she was yet unsure if she would survive.

"I need it to mend the woman… She can't keep us if I don't mend her, okay?" At this point Zoe had opened her eyes and scanned the room, but before she had gotten to the corner a loud scream was heard and a crash and the sound of struggling.

By reflex, learned by too many fights, Zoe made a quick and low somersault to get off the bed and make cover on the left side of the room before her hand automatically drew the non-existent weapon at her hip. Jao-gao-gorram-it! She had to do without weapons. It wasn't as fun, but she was good enough at combat with hands. She tentatively took a quick glance behind the bed to see what had happened. What she saw made her question the somewhat safety feeling she had had the past day while being treated.

They were both kneeling on the floor, a tray and several sharp objects scattered around them. The girl, River, was whimpering and kneeling at the floor, held firmly by the man at her wrists and in her right hand was a sharp scalpel.

"Schhhh, schhh", the man tried to hush at her calmly. "It's gonna be okay. We're gonna find a way, mei-mei, it's gonna be okay. We just need to find the right combination of medicines, it isn't impossible."

The whimpering just got louder.

"Two by two, hands of blue. Two by two, hands of blue. Two by two…"

And that was when the man saw Zoe watching them. His expression fell and he looked scared, and for just a second heartbroken. Not a sound, calming or otherwise, seemed to be able to escape his lips.

"Eh…" He said after some moments that seemed to last forever. He was for some seconds distracted by the girl who had started rocking back and forth, singing to herself.

"Two by two, hands of blue…"

"Can we… talk later? In some minutes? This isn't a really good time… I mean, you can go if you want to, but I'll be surprised if you can even stand with that injury…"

"…hands of blue. Two by two…"

Slowly, carefully, the man got the girl to stand, the scalpel still in her hand, and led her to another room that seemed brighter and shabbier. He closed the door, and Zoe was left to her own devices. She had barely gotten to her feet when the man came back. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"You're quite strong. But I rather would like you to sit down or lay on the bed while we talk." Zoe gave him a frown in response, but she slowly sat down on the edge of her bed. Sweat clanged to her brow just from that short amount of time standing. Besides, she was sure she could take this man on in a fight even if she'd start at a sitting position. For now, it was better to save energy.

The man sat on the other bed, looking through some papers. His hands were far too clean and well-kept to have ever belonged to a hobo. Even his nails were short and dirtfree.

"How are you feeling, Ms…?" He paused for a name, but she ignored it.

"I'm fine. How is your sister?"

He wasn't as good as her at hiding his feelings. He blanched a little, but otherwise ignored her input.

"Ms. I need to know how you are feeling in order to treat you. You have been stabbed with a Kortine-knife in the gut and I really want to know if I have to cut you open in case your large intestine has gone into a necrosis. So, how are you feeling?" He asked, calm and distant. If it wasn't for his hands or for his manners, it was the talk and his words that exposed him. But why would a doctor hide out here, on a border planet? With his crazy sister nonetheless.

"Drowsy. Heavy limbs. Poundin' ache here." She lay a hand on her stomach and motioned to the area. "Dry throat." The doctor nodded and made some notes in his papers.

"That is to be expected with the poison leaving your body. These after-effects usually subside in three to four days. I suggest that you drink a glass of water every three hours. Given your previous recovery I would say two days, if", here he gave her a stern look she wasn't used to be given, "you rest properly. That means no strain, no firm food, no pressure and no getting up from bed." At her unimpressed look, he just continued. "And if I were you, I would be careful the coming three weeks. You don't want to reopen the wound or cause more brain damage to your concussion."

Without taken any consideration to her dubious stare, he fetched a glass of water to her. Instead of taking it, she gave him a hard stair straight into his eyes.

"Do you work for the knife-stabbin' feh feh pi goh?"

Now it was the doctor's turn to raise his eyebrows, but he seemed more bewildered by her question than sarcastic.

"Why in the world would I help you if I were?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking as intimidating as ever, even though she was at a sitting position.

"You tell me."

"Well, I'm not. Drink this and lay down on the bed."

"I'm sorry Doc, but I don't think so." She heavily stood up, ignoring the pain and the protests that were aimed at her. "I'm gonna go now, 'cause my crew ain't gonna sit tight while I'm missin'."

She could feel her whole body aching, and she wondered if it would be able to walk a longer distance without falling over.

If you can't run, you crawl.

The doc seemed alarmed at the idea of her walking at all.

"Please, Ms… Take what I've said under consideration. I strongly recommend you to wait a few more days before even remotely trying to stand… like you are doing now."

"No use tryin' to convince me, Doc. Thanks for your help, though." She took a step and winced on the inside of the pain. Outwards she didn't give away anything.

"Wait! How far do you plan to walk?"

"As far as I have to." Another pain-filled step.

"Wait, please!" His tone was more pleading. "Are you gonna walk to the docks? We carried you at least half a mile!"

Silence. Zoe took another step while thinking. She had been stabbed 100 meters away from Serenity. That meant, best case scenario, she had to walk at least 700 meters. She had dealt with pain before, she could deal with it again. Another step.

"Let us help you", the man begged. "When my sister wakes up we can carry you back." The words froze Zoe in her place. This stranger begged to carry her? She turned around slowly to study his face. He really was a doctor, concerned for his patient, going to great lengths to protect a life he'd already saved.

"That's awful nice, Doc. But what would your sister say about it?"

His cheeks pinked a little.

"She's gonna be alright with it. I've given her medicine. When she wakes up she's gonna be… uh, quite normal for a couple of hours, maybe longer. In that time it should be no trouble to bring you to your crew and then get back here safely."

At Zoe's doubtful look he added defensively: "She's not dangerous."

At Zoe's even more doubtful expression he sighed. "At least not as dangerous as the risk of torn intestines."

If you can't crawl…

"When's she gonna wake up?"

"In just some hours."

Would her crew, her husband, be able to wait for so long?

"Why don't you go with me, alone?"

By her question, the doctor showed for the first time a determined face, a strong face, without being impersonal.

"I won't leave her."

And her crew wouldn't leave her.

They would survive some more hours if it meant that she got less hurt.

She strode to her bed, sinking down on it, slightly relieved that the pain subsided. The Doc passed her the glass of water he had been holding this all time.

"Try to sleep. I'll wake you when we can go."

She nodded and carefully drank the water. No taste, no effects of poison or drugs. Just water. The Doc scribbled on his paper and didn't know what to say. She waited, and it didn't take many minutes before he blurted out:

"How… uh… dangerous is your crew?"

She almost let out an amused laugh, but she kept her grave face and tone when she answered.

"Very dangerous."

"Oh." He didn't seem to know what else to stay. "But they wouldn't really hurt us, would they? We helped you."

"If they try to, I'll tell them." The man seemed relieved, and for a second Zoe wondered just how old this man really was.

"Just one more thing", the doctor said before Zoe drifted off to sleep. "I would appreciate it if you and your crew didn't mention to anyone of my sister and me."

"Same to you, Doc", Zoe said with her eyes closed. "Same to you."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

She woke hours later by a hand to her shoulder, and within seconds she was ready to go. The same couldn't be said about her companions.

"River, I can't bring my bag with me. It would destroy my image as homeless." He gave a gesture to indicate his dirty face and even shabbier clothes. Zoe noted that even if his hands seemed to be dirty, it was only on the backside of the hand. The nails and fingers were as clean as ever.

"Don't bring the bag. Bring the rest."

Needless to say, the girl won the argument in a surprisingly short amount of time.

While Doc began to pack his medical stuff from a Doctor's Bag (the kid must have been a graduate from a MedAcad in the Core) into a sloppy brown backpack, Zoe studied his younger sister. She seemed calmer, more collective and less crazy even though she had an air of not fully being there. This was going to be a fun walk.

They walked as three drunkards, with Zoe's arms over the others' necks, and their arms round her waist. She almost didn't have to touch the ground as they carried most of her weight and she had to admit that it wasn't as painful or as slow as if she had walked by herself. The only real obstacle they met was an alliance-officer that proclaimed that "Zoe Washburne was under arrest for theft and…" before he was interrupted by the slurred voice of the Doc.

"This ain't no Zoooe… This's a Laaaara… an' she's been wi' me aaaall week…" At the officer's suspicious (and slightly jealous) glance, Doc only added a dreamy smile to his unfocused gaze. When the officer turned to River, the girl said in a slightly absent voice: "I'm her bitch, too."

When they had gotten far enough from the officer Zoe could hear Doc's low voice near her ear.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. I hope I didn't offend you."

"You didn't. Look for a Firefly."

"Serenity's over there", River said with a certain tone. To Zoe's surprise, the girl was right. But how could she know the name of the ship?

The accommodation-ladder was down, so they could walk directly into the air-lock.

"Well, this is it then", Doc said. "Remember not to tell anyone." And then he knocked on the door.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

The atmosphere had grown tense the past day, and for the last four hours it had intensified. It was no real surprise for anyone on the ship that the thick mood and frustration culminated into a full fist-fight after yet another day of fruitless search. It had been Shepherd Book and Jayne that separated a furious Wash and a passive Cap'n Mal Reynolds. Now everyone, except Inara, was standing in the cargo bay after yet another search round. The Companion had quickly gone to her shuttle, trying to find any information through some very powerful customers that owed her one.

"THAT'S MY WIFE WE'RE TALKIN' ABOUT, MAL!" Wash shouted to the Captain's swollen face. A dark ring under Mal's left eye had already begun to show. "THAT'S MY WIFE!" He made a wide gesture towards the air lock while roaring, "WE'VE BEEN SEARCHIN' FOR TWO DAYS, SHE'S NOT GONNA SHOW UP, KNOCKIN' ON THE DOOR…"

BANG BANG BANG

Wash silenced and everyone seemed as shocked as he when the knocking continued.

"Jayne." The Captain only needed to say one word to the big muscular man, who began to walk to the door. "Everyone, be prepared." Jayne slowly opened one of the doors towards the air lock, with a gun hidden behind his back.

"Cap'n. It's Zoe." Wash's eyes widened and he began to move towards the door, but one arm from Mal stopped him. "She has two hobos carryn' her. She's drunk." Mal took extra care to hold to his weapon without it being obvious.

"Let them in."

Jayne opened the doors fully and in stepped a trio of torn and dirty clothes and the woman in the middle was indeed his first mate. Wash rushed past Mal and stopped mere inches from Zoe, uttering incomprehensible words.

"If you want to help", grunted the man on Zoe's right side, "go get a stretcher." Wash didn't need to be told twice, even though he cast worried looks on his beloved wife.

"Is this good enough?" the pilot asked, steering a rolling table towards Zoe.

"It'll do. If you take the feet…" Wash immediately took hold on her ankles. The man turned towards the girl on Zoe's left side. "Jenna, if you could, yeah, thanks." The girl had let go of Zoe's left arm and helped her hobo-friend and Wash lift Zoe, her position being at the lower back and thighs. Mal raised his eyebrows at the hobos' obvious care of Zoe.

To be truthful, Doctor Simon Tam was very nervous. He tried to ignore the unpleasant churning in his stomach by concentrating on Ms Zoe. Quick in, quick out, it wasn't that hard. He didn't really know what he had expected of Ms Zoe's crew, but it wasn't a big, muscular guy as a door-opener.

Bounty hunter ran through his mind, and his stomach clenched uncomfortably. It was easier to concentrate on the blonde, slightly smaller man, who was so obviously worried about Zoe. When they had gotten her onto the stretcher the man quickly grasped her hand, asking if she were alright. Simon was lightly surprised when a gentle but weak smile softened the woman's features. She tenderly dried the man's tear streaks with her free hand while saying in a tired but reassuring voice: "I'm fine, husband. I'm fine."

Simon turned away from the intimate scene, feeling like he intruded on something highly private. That gave him a more detailed view of Ms… uh Mrs Zoe's crew. It was the bounty hunter at the door, and the husband at her side. At the stretcher's far end stood an old man and a young woman (one of the sweetest he had seen, even though she had oil and grime on her cheeks) concern written on their faces, and some meters away stood a man with his hands at his hips wearing a stony face. Simon noted that the man was wearing a coat in a brownish colour, like the ones the rebels had had in the Unification War. It didn't reassure him. He wasn't as big as the gorilla at the door, but Simon got the feeling that this man could be far more dangerous and perceptive. The man was studying Simon suspiciously, before turning his gaze to River who had started to wander round in the cargo bay, off into her own world. It would be best to get this over with quickly.

"Who's the doctor here?"

"I have some medical experience", the old man said, stepping forward. Simon nodded and tried not to twitch when he felt the stone man's attention change focus to him yet again.

"I've got some papers for you then", Simon said, trying to sound rougher than he felt. He rolled up his sleeve and untied the knot that held the papers to his wrist. The old man graciously accepted them with an asking expression. Hadn't the man seen a journal before?

"It'll say what …" what was he supposed to call Mrs Zoe? Mrs was far too polite for a street rat. Patient was too fancy. Woman? Wasn't that too rude? After a short pause he mumbled something inaudible that sounded like "treatment and medicine" before quickly turning to Zoe, "Well, bye. Jenna, time to go." At his words Stone Man took some steps forward.

"Slow down a minute. I'd like a-knowin' who the go neong yung duh you are an' what the hell you've been doin' to a member o' my crew." Stone Man said all this in a very calm, very dangerous tone; Simon felt like a rabbit surrounded by foxes. He heard how the accommodation-ladder slowly raised behind him. He tried to make his answer sound equally calm and cold as the man, but he wasn't sure that he had succeeded.

"We're innocent passersbys. An' we delivered your crewmember an' papers. We don't wanna get more involved, so this is a good bye." The way the Stone Man tried to look through him was enough to make Simon wanting to run the hell away from this ship. When the man let his gaze linger on Simon's hands, the younger man couldn't resist concealing his hands in the too big sleeves. He knew immediately that he had made a mistake when he saw the Stone Man's eyes narrow slightly.

"Jayne, check him for weapons or suspicious trinkets." Jane? The bounty hunter? A man named Jane? Stranger things had happened, and at the moment Simon was more concerned by the looks his sister attracted from the brute rather than the name-issues. Apparently the captain had noticed them too (at this point it was obvious who the leader in this group of people were) and testily added, "I'll check the girl."

"Dammit Mal!"

"Just do your gorram job."

The bounty hunter looked all but pure sadistical at the thought, cracking his fingers. Simon couldn't help but taking a step backwards.

"Askin' for permission to speak, Sir", could be heard from the stretcher.

"Hm?" The man turned his head towards Zoe, but Simon got the feeling that he still was under careful watch.

"Put down your bag", Jayne's voice grumbled. "And turn around."

What should he do? What could he do? River didn't seem scared at all and she even did a pirouette after the captain had finished his quick but thorough examination. The bounty hunter let Simon put his backpack on the floor before he was roughly searched for concealed weapons.

"They weren't the feh feh pi goh that stabbed me, Sir." Zoe's calm voice was firm and neutral.

"That may be so, but they can still work with them", the captain replyed.

Strong hands chucked rather than patted, and Simon couldn't help a whizzing intake of breath when the hands reached his lower left ribs.

"Hey! The pretty boy's ribs seems broken!" Jayne interrupted the others conversation; his tone cheerful, like a little child that had gotten a new toy.

"Continue patting there", Simon said through clenched teeth, "and you'll have a broken nose."

"An' that's another thing to concern about", the captain said in a very stony voice. "He talks way too fancy. I don't like fancy."

"Sir. He carried me."

Something changed in the captain's expression by those words, but Simon could not determine what. The eyes had widened and he took a quick glance at River who strolled humming around (though she had been placed not too kindly in a corner less than a minute ago), touching the walls; then he took a quick glance at Simon who was manhandled by Jayne.

"They… carried you?"

"They carried me, Sir."

The captain looked stumped at the words, and hugely surprised.

"You found any weapons Jayne?" he called.

"It ain't nuthin' on him, Cap'n. I ain't haven't digged through the bag yet."

"It ain't no weapons in the bag, sir. If you don't count the scalpel."

This time Stone Man looked more interested.

"Scalpel?"

"He's the one that patched me up, Sir."

"That's a-mighty fine skill for a street rat." The captain looked at him with anew light in his eyes. Simon didn't like what that look meant any better than the hostile one.

"You've checked us for weapons. Can we go now?"

"Now, wait just a moment", the captain said. "Shepherd, let me take a look on those gorram papers, will ya?" Simon shifted nervously, but he didn't dare to take his bag and run with River just yet with the gorilla less than a metre behind him. The captain's eyebrows rose the more he read the papers.

"Did he write these papers too?"

"He did, Sir", Zoe replied.

Simon shot her a betrayed look.

The old man (a shepherd, huh?) gave Simon an appreciating look.

"Tell me", the shepherd's deep voice travelled through the cargo bay, "which Medical Academy did you study at?"

"The King of the dead is the King of the living, students study him." River's low sing-song voice answered when Simon remained quiet. Simon frowned at his sister, but none of the Firefly's crew seemed the wiser by her cryptic remark.

"It's time for us to go."

River stopped humming and placed both her hands on the wall. She turned towards her brother with a big smile. It hurt to see that smile, because he hadn't seen it since she was taken. It cut him deeply in a place that seemed to be behind his physical heart because he knew she wouldn't smile like that when they got off this piece of go shee and away from this buhn dahn crew.

"Serenity wants me to stay." Simon knew that she meant the ship by the way she said things. A strange name she had come up with (there weren't a single feeling of serenity on this ship), but ever since he had gotten her back she had talked and acted strange, and somehow he had learnt (somewhat) to go along with it for argument's sake.

"No, it doesn't. It's just being polite. Now, Jenna."

"Isn't it better", the gentle tone of the Shepherd was heard, "that this doctor stays until Zoe is recovered? There are some complicate instructions in the journal that I have no confidence in completing without some minor or major failure."

Zoe's husband, who was yet to let go of her hand, looked aghast at the idea that his wife's care could be in any way lacking.

"Please", he turned to Simon, "stay. Stay for as long as it takes to make her whole again." When the captain opened his mouth he was interrupted by the blonde. "Mal, she's my wife. I don't care if they are Niska's best assassins, by everyone among us here they can give her the best help available."

Simon himself was taken aback by the request. He shouldn't stay. River couldn't stay. And a patient's life may be the cost.

"I've already helped", he answered lamely.

"That's his point, Doc", Zoe answered calmly.

"It's not that hard to follow the instructions."

"'Bruises on left hypochondriac. Be sure to check for nerve disease. If former major muscle injury, use four dosages of D3-TT instead of…'", the captain began to quote directly from the papers. "Wow, this one word's a real tongue-twister. App-ah-la-shyy…"

"It's gonna take three weeks until Mrs Zoe is fully recovered." At this point Simon had dropped all pretend about his accent and manners. "I can't stay with you that long."

"Why not?" Zoe's husband was the one pleading; captain Mal was quiet and observing while giving back the papers to the Shepherd.

"For one, I don't trust you."

"That's alright then, kid", Jayne growled behind him. "We don't trust your glob either."

"Which only strengthens my point. I don't have the time or the energy to watch my back all the time." He didn't mention that he watched his sister's back too, but Zoe glanced at River with an understanding look. It was strange how worried and reassured he could be at the same time by her perception.

"If you ain't tellin' anyone of us, we ain't gonna gobble on you", the young woman spoke. She had a sweet low voice filled with feeling; Simon momentarily was struck dumb while he processed her words. He couldn't help but believe her.

"I… … …It won't work. We're only gonna bring you trouble." He talked to her, because she was the one that seemed to sympathise with other people the most. At his words the captain let out a short hard laugh.

"Kid, we're used to trouble. I doubt you can bring any more than we can handle."

"Captain, take a look at my sister." Simon's tone changed from soft and uncertain to brisk and dry. "This is one of her good days. Who do you think was the one that broke my ribs?" The captain shot the dancing girl a doubtful look.

"The sister is a liability", Zoe agreed.

"We're gonna have a Looney-bin on the ship?" Jayne asked with a disgusted tone.

"Only temporary", the captain replied.

"I don't think that's gonna work", Simon said tiredly. "If we stay here any longer than necessary she'll think we're gonna stay here permanently. She even named the ship Serenity. She won't want to leave. And I'll be the one who's gonna have to live with the broken bones. We can't stay."

The captain looked at him with a mused expression and slowly gave a hardly noticeable nod.

"Why don't we just chuck off Crazynuts an' keep the doc?" asked Jayne. Simon gave him a withering look over his shoulder.

"We're a package-deal."

"Just one more question", the captain interrupted Simon's glare-contest with the brute. He began to walk towards Simon and stopped some metres away, piercing his gaze into Simon's eyes. "Why did you help Zoe in the first place?"

Simon blinked. A genuine confused look spread over his features.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Silence stretched out after his question, and he wondered briefly if he had said something wrong by the way the captain looked at him. The older man had once again returned to his stone mask, hiding his thoughts.

"That settles it then", the man concluded, turning his back on Simon. "Jayne, shut the gate great an' proper. Wash, get the ship started. We're settin' off."

Simon was about to open his mouth to remind the captain that he had forgotten to let the siblings off when the guy turned his head and shot him a lopsided grin.

"It's usual better to travel a lot when on the run, Doc. Alliance ain't as like-y to catch one." Simon felt his mouth simulate a fly-trap before quickly shutting it. The beyond grateful look Wash gave him before rushing up a flight of stairs ended Simon's doubts.

"Thank you", he said simply. River had begun to dance. How long had it been since she did the ballet? She performed an Arabesque at hearing Simon's acceptance, looking like a very graceful, very scruffy swan.

"The name's Cap'n Reynolds, kid. Welcome aboard Serenity."


A/N: This was it. How do you like it?

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