"I'm supposed to get you settled in your room," Inara explained. I slid off the table and took her proffered hand as she guided me out of the infirmary. "Also, I think you might be interested in washing up a little, and probably dressing in something more…covering."

I nodded. "Yes please."

"We're not much different in size. I'm sure something of mine could work for you," she decided.

"Thank you."

She led me up the long flight of stairs again and down a short passage. At a door she stopped and turned a bar that kept it secure, then she ushered me through it and into a place that was decorated richly with red and gold silk and velvet.

"This is my shuttle," she explained. "The captain rents it to me so I can do my own business apart from the ship."

"And what is your business?"

"I'm called a companion."

I must have looked confused because she quickly explained.

"The captain calls me a whore. I assume you're familiar with that word."

I couldn't help showing surprise. For someone so gentle and elegant, the term 'whore' didn't fit with my mind. Most whores I had heard of were cheap and crude and had no respect from others.

"From what I know of your time, the profession has changed," she again seemed to read my expression. "Being a companion is a respected profession. I trained for years in a house with other girls, learning all the rules of etiquette and decorum. I dress only in the best materials and jewels, and I come from a socially established family. Companions are not at the mercy of our clients, but rather we have complete control over whom we contract with. I have the best education and I am requested to keep company with the most esteemed gentlemen."

"It sounds elegant," I admitted. "Definitely not the same where I come from."

"I'm sure that is a compliment," she smiled.

"It is," I assured her. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you," she beckoned me further into the shuttle and shut the door. "Knowing my profession, I hope you will let yourself be comfortable with me."

"Your profession doesn't affect me at all Inara," I assured her. "I've been comfortable with you since the moment I saw you. There is something very reassuring about you."

"Knowing how to interact with others is a part of my profession," she reminded me.

"So, you're telling me that what I feel around you is just you being professional?"

"Not exactly," she smiled. "I am good at putting people at ease."

"Well, in my current situation, I definitely appreciate it," I assured her. "Everyone else seems a little put off by me. It's making me very uncomfortable to be honest. They all seem so nervous about me."

"You can hardly blame them," Inara smiled. "A girl from the past suddenly appears in their life and you expect them to be completely calm about it all?"

"No, I suppose not, but it's not as though this is easy for me!"

"I know," she guided me over to a pile of silk cushions on the floor and motioned for me to sit. "Just give it time."

I sat and made myself comfortable, trying not to disrupt the stitching Simon had done for me.

"Disrobe please," Inara requested. I looked up at her, momentarily uncomfortable, but found refreshing encouragement in her gentle eyes and kind smile. "You need to bathe. The captain told me he found you lying in the sand for goodness knows how long. I imagine you could use a good washing." I nodded my agreement and she helped me remove what little clothing I was wearing.

She prepared a basin of water with rose oil and proceeded to gently wash my back and shoulders with a soft towel. Her touch was skilled, which didn't surprise me, and I barely even flinched as she patted the towel over my stitches. She washed my body thoroughly, including my feet and then requested to wash my hair.

"Sometimes Kaylee likes me to wash hers. It can be very soothing. Also, I've noticed some blood drying in it."

I nodded and she prepared a fresh basin of water. She placed it behind me and helped me lie back so my head was resting in it and then she washed my hair, just as gently as she had washed my body.

"You have such lovely hair," she complimented as she pulled her fingers through the natural curl of my long, blonde hair.

"Thank you," I smiled. I couldn't help feeling flattered by her sincerity; she was so elegant and beautiful. "How long have you been working as a companion?"

"I started training when I was twelve. I had my first client at sixteen. That was nearly ten years ago," she responded.

"That's so long!" I couldn't help expressing my surprise. "Do you ever wish you did something else?"

"Perhaps," she answered slowly. "I enjoy my profession though, truly. At times I simply wish for more freedom. Being a companion involves many rules, and one does not break those rules."

"Oh," I wanted to know more, but I wasn't sure if it was right to keep on asking about such a private profession.

"You're still curious," she observed. "I imagine you are wondering how a woman could commit herself to a life of servicing others."

"Sort of," I confessed. "It's just weird for me to think about. Where I come from, it's not something that a woman would do voluntarily, not usually anyway."

"You must understand that being a companion is a respectable profession. It is completely legal and no one would ever think less of me for it," she paused. "Usually, at least. Of course there are always exceptions."

"What do you do exactly?" I asked before I could stop myself. "I'm sorry, that's probably really private."

She laughed a little. "It is, but only because I do not discuss my clients at all. For you though, I could make an exception."

"I don't need all the details…" I told her.

"I understand," she paused and then continued. "I do what is requested of me. Different clients have different desires and I fulfill them. Once I serviced a man who wanted nothing more than someone to talk to. He told me incredible secrets that he couldn't divulge to anyone else, but because I am bound to him by a contract he knew I would keep them. Another man wanted to paint me…a portrait that is. He was an artist and he desired for me to be his model. Most often though, my clients desire me for their pleasure; even the artist paid for a night with me after the portrait."

"Do you ever, umm, service women?"

"I do," she admitted. "They are not as common, but I have taken a few female clients. Men supply the majority of my clientele, but every now and then I find a woman who I find worthy of my time."

"Do you ever wash their hair?"

"Yes."

"I can tell," I told her. "You seem like you've had practice."

"Thank you," she finished massaging my head with her skilled fingers and replaced the water basin with a towel to dry my hair. Once it was adequately dry she braided a thin circlet around my head, decorating it with golden thread, and left the rest down to dry naturally. "Now, let's find you something to put on."

I watched her stand and gracefully cross the room to a trunk at the foot of her bed. She lifted the lid and started sifting through a collection of silks and satins. Finally she pulled out a long white gown and held it up for my inspection. I nodded eagerly. The dress was more beautiful than anything I had ever worn, even though it looked considerably plain compared to the red satin she was wearing.

"I think it will fit you well," she decided, motioning for me to stand and join her.

I stood, and realized that my nudity didn't even make me uncomfortable anymore. Of course if anyone else happened to enter the room, I would have been utterly embarrassed, but being with Inara was impossible to feel shame.

"You have a slighter frame than me, but our chest sizes are comparable so try it and see," she handed the dress to me and I slid it over my head. "Perfect," she smiled. "You look lovely."

I inspected my appearance in a floor-length mirror she had mounted to one wall; I almost didn't recognize myself. The dress reminded me of something from the mythology of Greek goddesses. It was made of white silk and hung down to my ankles. It had an empire waist, lined with gold braiding that also supplied the straps. I hadn't put my bra back on, but one glance at Inara indicated a bra was clearly unnecessary.

"It's a little snug in the chest," I told her.

"Barely," she insisted. "No one will notice." I thought it might be a little noticeable, but she smiled reassuringly and held out her hand. "Come with me mei-mei."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"What? Mei-mei?"

I nodded.

"Oh I'm not sure how to translate it exactly," she admitted. "It is so commonly used…I never even considered its English translation. I suppose literally translated it would mean sister, or little sister, but in meaning it is a term of endearment," she explained. "It is used to refer to a female in an endearing way."

"Like sweetheart, or honey."

"Yes, I suppose," she smiled. "Come now," she put her hand out to me again and I took it. "The others are undoubtedly curious about our long absence."

"Are you cold?" I asked as I noticed goose bumps rising on my arms.

"No not at all," she smiled, but then also noticed the goose bumps on my arms. "Clearly you are though." She turned away from me and quickly retrieved a long red satin wrap from a different trunk and handed it to me. "This should help a little."

I took it and wrapped it tightly around myself. It didn't offer a lot of warmth, but it helped.

"All right," Inara took my hand in hers and we left her shuttle together. "Now, take a deep breath. You'll be fine, mei-mei, just relax."

"What if they don't like me?"

"Why wouldn't they? You're a dear and the captain's already approved of you, so they don't have a choice."

I was silent as we made our way down the passage and up the steps finally ending up once again in the dining room. As we entered the room, all talking quieted and all eyes turned towards Inara and me.

Simon was the first on his feet. "Are you feeling any better?"

"A little, thanks," I smiled and transferred my hand from Inara's to his. "I think Inara's hands have magical healing powers."

Jayne chocked on the water he was gulping down and stared at Inara with wide eyes. "Is that so? I wouldn't mind hearing more of that…"

"Jayne," the captain rebuked him, but I noticed the awkward blush creeping up his neck as well.

"I didn't mean it to sound that way," I apologized quietly as I realized the connotation of my word choice. "She just helped me with my hair…"

"Which looks lovely," Zoe smiled at me sweetly.

"Sure does."

I looked at the man who spoke and realized I hadn't seen him yet. He had red hair and was wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

"I'm Wash," he stood and crossed to me quickly with his hand outstretched. "I fly this ship."

"It's nice to meet you," I gave him my hand and he grasped it tightly with both of his and lifted it to his lips.

"Down boy," Zoe reached up from where she sat and pulled on his arm. "You've got five seconds to admire and then I want you to put her out of your mind."

"Five seconds? That's generous," the captain commented.

"He knows who he belongs to."

Wash held my hand for another moment and then dropped it and returned to his chair. "It was nice to admire you. You are a very beautiful woman, and now I will never look at you in lust again because my wife is a jealous woman and she could hurt me."

I felt a little uncomfortable to hear that he might have thought of me in lust, but I tried not to let it bother me; he was probably only teasing.

"You're married?"

He nodded towards Zoe and I smiled; I couldn't help observing that they were a little bit of a funny couple.

Inara stepped forward and directed my attention to the other girl that had entered with her and Zoe. "I don't think you've officially met Kaylee yet either."

"No, I haven't," I smiled at the girl who was perched on the edge of the counter. She nodded, but didn't smile. To be honest the greeting felt a little cold considering how the others had greeted me, especially since I thought she had the friendliest eyes.

"I want to thank all of you for letting me stay here until the captain figures out what to do with me next," I spoke up. I felt the need to say something to break the awkwardness that seemed to overpower the situation.

"We're delighted to have you," the Shepherd smiled at me. "It's always nice making new friends."

"Has Inara showed you where you'll be staying?" The captain asked.

"Not yet," Inara answered. "We were busy getting her cleaned up and dressed a little more suitable."

"I'd say she's suitable," Jayne grinned. "She suits me just fine."

"Jayne!" The captain and Zoe both spoke together.

"I'm just sayin'," he protested.

"It would be best if you didn't say anything," Zoe told him.

"Wash, how long we got?" The captain asked.

"No more than ten minutes," Wash answered.

"Perfect," Captain Reynolds stood and approached me. "We've got a bit of business to take care of, during which I think it'd be best for you to stay on board and out of sight. Inara will take you to your room and answer any questions you have about how things work around here."

"Mal," Inara interrupted him. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I've got my own business to tend to," she reminded him. "If we're ten minutes out, I must ready my shuttle."

"Oh, right." He looked around the room, searching for my new guide, or babysitter rather.

"I can take care of her," Simon offered.

"Good," the captain nodded. "Yea, you'll do fine. Keep her comfortable and," he lowered his voice, "keep Jayne away from her."

"I will," he promised.

"I can take her, Cap'n." Kaylee stood suddenly. "She might want another woman to be with her."

"The Doc's more than capable of taking care of her needs," the captain insisted. "I need you in the engine room."

Kaylee looked disappointed, but she did as the captain commanded and left the dining room, heading probably for the engine room.

"Jayne, get ready," the captain ordered. When Jayne didn't budge from his seat, but kept his eyes firmly locked on me, the captain moved towards him and physically pulled him to his feet. "Get ready for the job." He repeated his order louder. "Zoe, you too."

Jayne took one more look at me before sulkily leaving to complete his order; Zoe followed, and then Wash and Inara.

"We shouldn't be gone all that long," the captain told Simon and me. "If you need anything at all that Simon can't take care of…"

"Captain Reynolds, as you said, I am more than capable of taking care of her." He put his arm around me as though to prove a point.

"Fine," he looked at me briefly and then left the room.

"Are you ready for the tour?" Simon asked when we were alone.

I nodded. As crazy and frightening as the whole situation was, I couldn't help feeling a little intrigued by the idea of being on a spaceship.

"All right, then come with me," he placed my hand on his arm and guided me out of the dining room and into a hallway. "That's the cockpit down there. You usually won't have a reason to come up here though, unless the captain specifically requests it. He doesn't like people getting in the way."

Before I had a chance to take in all he was showing me, he was already leading me down the steps. My head was starting to feel a little dizzy and my legs felt shaky.

"Umm, Simon," I stopped him mid-step. "As much as I want to see everything, do you think we could put it off for a while. I'm not feeling so great and I think I'd really like to just lie down."

"Of course!" He finished the descent and then led me down the long flight back towards the infirmary. This time we bypassed that room, moving around it, and into a large room filled with comfortable looking settees, adorned with colorful cushions. Branching off that room was a hallway, which he took me down and revealed numerous sliding doors made of some sort of sheer material—Simon later told me it was rice paper. I figured these cabins were meant to be used if passengers were ever on the ship; they looked too clean to be lived in permanently.

"Does the crew live down here?" I asked anyway.

"No," he answered. "They all have their own rooms on the main level—that hallway we passed through earlier leading to the cockpit, and the one on the other side of the dining room leading to the engine room."

"I guess I'll figure out all the details later."

"This is my room," he indicated one of the doors. "And that's River's." He pointed to the one directly across the hall from his. "The shepherd lives at the end there, but the rest of these cabins are open. So, pick whichever one you like."

"Is there a difference between them?"

"Not really," he shrugged. "They're all basically the same size and styled the same way."

"Then perhaps I'll just take the room next to you," I decided.

"Certainly," he agreed with a smile. "I mean, I wouldn't mind."

Simon slid open the door to the room next to his and motioned for me to enter first. The cabin was small and simplistic, but the style was surprisingly nice. I'm not sure exactly what I had expected, but definitely not this. There was a bed against the wall, with silky green and ivory coverings. A small dresser stood beside the bed, and seemed to be mounted to the wall; a mirror was mounted above that. There was no other furniture in the room, but there was a rug of oriental design on the floor and art on the walls, also of an oriental style.

"I don't know what you're used to back home, but I hope this will suit you all right," Simon told me as he watched me survey the room.

"It's fine," I assured him. "It's smaller than what I'm used to, but I'm flying in space, so that's got to count for something, right?"

He smiled and nodded.

"Is there anything else I should know right now, or can it wait until later?" I was already moving toward the bed, eagerly anticipating the moment when I could lie down and rest on it.

Simon seemed able to sense my eagerness because he quickly shook his head. "You should be fine for now. I've got some things to do, but I'll be around so when you wake up you should be able to find me pretty easily. Also," he pointed to a box mounted on the wall. "This speaker will allow you to communicate with the ship. Each button connects to a different part of the ship—all the main rooms. This one here will connect to the common areas, which is where I'll be able to hear you if you need me."

"Thank you," I smiled at him and started to lie down.

"Are you sure there's nothing you need right now?"

I shook my head and rolled over onto my side.

"All right."

I could tell he was still standing at the door

"Simon, go away!" I turned my head and smiled at him. "I'm not going anywhere. Nothing is going to happen to me. You've been an amazing help, but I really just feel like resting now."

"I know," he stepped back out of the room. "Sleep well."

Of course once he left, I couldn't sleep at all. I laid on my back for a while, staring up at the ceiling of my small cabin room and pretending I could see through all the floors above me and out into the galaxy we were soaring through. When this experiment failed me, I turned on my side and started to count the lines of bamboo that made up the wall paneling of my room. No matter what I tried, I couldn't stop my mind from replaying the few memories I had of what had happened to me at that party. I felt certain that if only I could remember a little bit more—a face or a sound—I would remember everything and no longer feel so utterly lost. Then my emotions kicked in and told me that I probably didn't want to remember whatever had happened; I was undoubtedly better off not knowing.