Disclaimer: Firefly and Serenity are not mine. More's the pity: if they were, I'd have Mal at home every night. :grin: Original story and characters are my own, however. This is just for fun, no profit involved.

Author's note: This is a bit of whimsy, set before Serenity. I've always wondered – who hasn't? – just what Book's story was. This is a one-shot of a maybe situation, and even that doesn't clarify much. Just filling in blanks I thought were implied in the episode "Safe".

Summary: One-shot "I wonder..." story, pre-Serenity but post-"Objects in Space". Book sees a face from his past.

"Ugly Ducklings"

M. Grace Macy, 2006

The problem with a good harvest season, Glory Boudreau decided with a sigh, was that everybody wanted a piece of it. Especially those as weren't entitled.

Her eyes narrowed against the glare of the midday sun, Boudreau watched carefully as a wagonload of grain-sprung profits was transferred from an armored car into an equally armored bank vault. It would sit there, waiting for the farmers, drivers, and other assorted townsfolk who would get their allotted shares, and Boudreau would make sure there was an armed Alliance guard present at all times to make sure only they got those shares. There wouldn't be any robberies at this bank, or any other in the small city of Larksville.

Technically, Boudreau's job didn't involve watching over this bank, but then, she thought with a slight smile, there wasn't anything in her orders to stop her. Boudreau had grown up in a colony like this one, although not quite so far from the Core, and she held a particular affection for such folk. Alliance Garrison Commander's orders or no, she'd keep an eye out for their welfare.

Boudreau sighed again, stretching her weary muscles a bit, and nodded at some of the passing townsfolk. They nodded back, mostly. Some of them, ones who hadn't voted for the Unification, just glared briefly or pointedly looked away. Boudreau had grown far too used to those looks, or lack of them, to feel angry. It had been close on eight years since the War, and even then she hadn't held any real anger at the Independents. Both sides were fighting for what they believed was right, what they truly believed was best for everyone they cared about. It was a bitch and a half, really, fighting people that you found you couldn't hate.

A new set of faces entered the periphery of her vision, and Boudreau shifted her gaze to take them in. New in town, not just for her patrol today. She assessed their threat potential automatically, the habit of three years of fighting nigh unbreakable, less so out on the Rim. They were a motley bunch, that was for certain; two men and two women, only one of them what Boudreau would count as a non-threat. The 'noncombatant' was a young woman, smiling and joking, her laughter bright as sunshine. Boudreau had an eye for true innocence; she hadn't spotted any in a while, but this girl fair shone with it. Boudreau smiled faintly, amused and relieved that a soul like that still existed in the 'verse.

The other woman was as far from the girl's light-hearted nature as could be. Tall, beautiful, but cold despite her smiling and laughing response to the girl. This was a woman who was warm to those as she cared about, but deadly cold to anyone else. She'd been in the War, Boudreau would bet. She didn't need to see the disdain in her eyes when their paths crossed to know which side, neither.

The men were fighters, too, she'd reckon. One was slightly taller than the other, the type as was built big and kept himself strong. He only had one pistol at his side, but Boudreau would bet -- and win just as easily -- that he had more weapons hidden away somewhere on his person. Roughly shaven, not too well kempt, and definitely not in the War, not unless someone paid him for it. The appreciative look he gave her, accompanied by ever so slightly much of a leer, told her that.

The other man, though ... Not as tall as the bulkier man, but built strong nonetheless. Handsome, too, Boudreau noted with a bit of wistfulness. Wistful because his jaw tensed when he saw her, and his hand made a slight, consciously interrupted movement to the gun holstered low at his hip. He wouldn't pull it, probably hadn't even thought about it, but the instinct was there, honed by wartime as strong as hers had been. Boudreau met his eyes briefly, and knew instantly that he was one who hadn't left the War too far behind him. She nodded to him, a bare dip of her head, letting him know she wasn't gonna start trouble. He hesitated, then nodded back, the movement sharp and tense.

Boudreau watched them go with a soft sigh. There were days she hated her uniform, and this was fixin' to be one of them. But she wouldn't change a thing, given the chance. There'd been too much to lose, too much she'd fought damn hard to keep -- and succeeded at. Still...

Then her gaze shifted again, as a shout hailed the passing group, and they turned to wait for a couple of stragglers. The first was a man in a loudly colored shirt, red-gold hair glinting bright in the sun. Noncombatant, her brain and gut decided quickly. He reached the tall woman's side and was greeted with a quick, soft kiss, his arm winding about her waist with ease and welcome. An interesting contrast, those two, and Boudreau couldn't help another faint smile, amused and a little envious. The group was still waiting, though, so Boudreau looked back again to see the last member of their little crew.

When she saw him, her smile dropped abruptly. Her heart, on the other hand, found its way up into her throat.

An older man, light cocoa skin lined from smiles and frowns both. He was dressed in a Shepherd's uniform now, the white collar at his throat nearly matching the silver of his bound-back hair. He looked so very different from the last time she'd seen him, but Boudreau would have known him anywhere. Her spine straightened of its own accord, her hands dropping down into formation. For a moment, as his eyes flicked to her, noticing the movement, she had to consciously stop herself from saluting.

Their eyes met, and Boudreau saw the startled recognition there, brief as it was before he smothered it. A soft smile touched his lips, his expression one of polite greeting as he passed. No one who hadn't seen that flicker of surprise would have known he'd ever seen her before in his life. Boudreau stopped herself from glancing at the group, to see if they'd noticed, knowing he didn't want them to think on it if they had.

She nodded at him instead, a deeper nod than the one she'd granted the handsome man. The message was silent, and just as clear to the 'Shepherd'. It's good to see you again, sir.

He nodded back, and spoke as he passed her. "Do you know where we might find a nice cantina, Captain?"

Her rank insignia was clearly that of a Major, but it wasn't an oversight; it was a further acknowledgement, and Boudreau had to fight down a grin that he remembered her so well. "Mi Yung's," she told him. "The whiskey there is especially good, I might add."

He smiled at her. "A little early in the day, I think. But a fine nightcap, perhaps."

Boudreau nodded, hoping she was reading the message right. "Anything after 21:00 is a nightcap for me. Not much of a night owl."

He chuckled. "Nor am I, unless something interesting is keeping me up." Then his smile faded slightly, and he nodded.

She nodded back. "Afternoon, Shepherd."

"Captain."

And he moved on. Boudreau watched as he caught up with the group, relaying the name of Mi Yung's cantina with a smile. The others took it in stride and without question, even the handsome one with the hard eyes. Boudreau let herself smile a little again.

Her shift ended at 19:30. She had cleaned up, changed clothes into as un-soldierly a getup as she owned, and was at the cantina by 20:45. She found a table away from the main, but close enough so that it didn't look as if she was trying to be away from the main. It was just past 21:20 when the "Shepherd" wandered in. To Boudreau's surprise, the rest of the group was with him. He did a masterful job of parting with them after a round of drinks, then going through the room chatting to people, playing the part of wandering Shepherd perfectly. But then, Boudreau thought with a faint smile, if the stories she'd heard were true, it wasn't all an act.

When he made it to her table, Boudreau couldn't help a quick glance at the rest of his group. They looked relatively relaxed about it, although the handsome one was still a bit flinty-eyed. She looked away from him and up at the 'Shepherd' as he asked about taking a seat. She did her best to look nonchalant, shrugging her answer. When he sat, she asked quietly, "So what do they think you're talking to me about?"

He smiled slightly. "Spreading the word of the good Lord, finding out if there's any out in the borders as need it or want it told."

Boudreau smiled back. "I could probably name a few, in the interest of helping you out, Shepherd..."

"Book," he filled in. "I appreciate it ... Captain." The smile tugged wider at his lips. "Though I should say Major now, I see."

"Going on two years. I'm second in command at the garrison."

"Congratulations."

Boudreau chuckled. "And you, sir? Did you find that peace and quiet you'd been mentioning, last time we spoke?"

The smile was touched with something else, now, a mix of sorrow and satisfaction. "For a time. Now, it's less quiet, but maybe more peaceful."

Boudreau glanced briefly at his group. "They don't know."

It wasn't a question, but he confirmed it with a chuckle. "Not hardly. They're good people, but ..."

She nodded, slipping into the old cadences without meaning to. His presence brought back too many memories to avoid it. "Not everyone sees that in the other side, if they ain't used to tryin'."

He chuckled and nodded. "I'm glad you still try."

She shrugged. "War's over, and not all of us as fought wanted to win. Even if we did."

Their eyes met, and something dark and full of pain passed between them. People lost, a cause that had been hard-won, but still didn't seem entirely worth it. So much death, so much pain and loss and grief. But they clung to what had been saved, even if it was counted in individual lives, because the other things seemed to not matter as much anymore, if they ever had.

Boudreau shook it off and said simply, "It's good to see you well, sir."

He smiled at her, gently. "And you, Morning-glory."

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "I'm honored, sir."

"To be remembered so clearly?" His smile was sad, but still amused. "I remember all of my soldiers, Captain. Especially ones who've saved my life."

Boudreau shook her head. "It was only the once, sir, and it weren't hardly nothin'. You saved our lives more often, and far more regular."

"Until Serenity Valley."

She shook her head. "Even then, sir. If it weren't for you ... I wouldn't be here. A lot of us wouldn't still be in the 'verse, let alone raising families or doing business. We owe you more than we can tell, or ever repay."

He smiled at her, and reached across the table to place his hand close to hers, not quite touching, for a moment. "If you truly think of me like that, then I'm the one who's honored."

She shrugged, blushing. "They're words I've been wanting to say for a long while now." She cleared her throat, glancing at the other table and finding the handsome one's gaze on them. Their eyes met briefly, and she allowed herself to give him a faint, almost sad smile before turning back to the 'Shepherd'. "It's a shame they don't know you for true, sir."

"They like me well enough as I am," he told her with a shrug.

"Then I won't argue," Boudreau conceded. "Will you be staying on in Larksville a time?"

"Maybe a day," he answered. "They're waiting for a work contract, then we'll be off. They're to leave me at Haven, after this."

Boudreau frowned. "I thought you liked traveling with them?"

He smiled sadly. "I do, but ... there's been questions building for a while, and a call in my heart to other places. People who need to hear the Word, who need a little help building up their hope."

She looked at him for a long moment, replacing the image from her memory with the man she saw before her now. "You truly are a Shepherd now, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Took the vows with an open, honest heart." That faint, sad smile played at his lips again. "It's my way of doing penance."

Boudreau nodded slowly. "We all got things we regret from the war."

"What do you regret, Captain?"

She sighed. "Sometimes, pretty much everything, including the war itself." She met his eyes with a sad smile of her own. "Everything but keeping Jimmy alive. Baby brother's still running about now, because of that. I can't rightly regret the rest if I don't regret that. So I leave the past where it belongs, and try to believe it was all for the best. Still is."

He nodded. "We all find our own ways to peace, as well." He glanced at the other table, where the group was starting to pack it in. "Well ... It seems I'd best be leaving in a bit."

Boudreau nodded, and gave him a list of homesteads to visit. "They'll appreciate being looked in on. They're good folks, even go so far as offering me a smile on occasion."

He chuckled. "If they knew you'd better, they'd offer them more often." He stood, and regarded her with a smile of farewell. "Watch yourself well, Morning-glory. May the Lord bless you and keep you."

Tears sprung to her eyes at the unexpected blessing. "Thank you, General. May He bless you and keep you, as well, Shepherd Book."

He nodded and gave her one last smile. Then he turned and joined his little group, and she watched them head for the door. Just before they left, the handsome one turned back and regarded her with a wary kind of curiosity. She smiled faintly and tipped her glass at him in a small salute. He frowned, but nodded back.

Boudreau sighed softly and sipped contemplatively. She'd keep an eye on them while they were in Larksville, make sure things went smoothly for them. It was the least she could do for the people transporting one of the greatest heroes of the Alliance.

-- end --