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Chapter 14

-- --

With a sigh, Inara regarded herself in the mirror before her, self-hatred welling in her gut. She despised herself for doing this, for doing the exact thing Mal had always accused her of – whoring. But she could think of no other way, no other way to gather the information they needed without drawing suspicion; no other way of getting him back.

Steeling herself, Inara pushed her doubts from her mind and took a deep breath, doing her best to find her center. She had already been on one date, the first one just a few days after they'd arrived. He had been a kindly, older gentleman and Inara had never been so relieved in all her life. He had truly only been seeking companionship and she had attended the dinner, her sparkling smile in place, her false laugh flowing easily. She had tried to get information from the assembled politicians on Dresden and what his plans might be, but other than hearing murmurs of how severely the Miranda broadwave had embarrassed him, she had been unable to find out anything else.

Rising slowly, she moved to grab her shawl, knowing she needed to hurry if she was to be on time. Heading for the door, a soft knock startled her slightly. Greeting her visitor, Inara said quickly, "Kaylee, I'm sorry. But I really have to be going."

The rest of her protest died on her lips as Kaylee brought her frightened green eyes to Inara's face. Finally noticing the depth of her mei mei's distress as the girl wrang her hands in front of her, Inara pulled her into her room and shut the door. "Kaylee, what is it?"

"It's Simon," Kaylee said quickly, her eyes welling with unwanted tears. "He's gettin' worse."

"The chills again?" Inara questioned, guiding the trembling girl over to a chair and sitting her down.

Shaking her head quickly, Kaylee told her, "No, 'Nara, that ain't it." Swallowing thickly, she said in a whisper, "He thinks he's seein' River."

"Seeing?" Inara's brow furrowed as she read the fear in Kaylee's eyes. "Seeing her how? You mean he's dreaming about her?"

Shaking her head again, Kaylee tried to explain. "That's what I thought at first too, but he says that ain't it. He says he's fully awake when he's seein' her. He can see what they're doin' to her." Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Kaylee tried not to think of Simon's pained expression from just an hour ago as he'd again felt a sharp stab of pain to his back and fallen into a heap on the floor. Turning her eyes up to Inara, she whispered, "It's bad, 'Nara."

"Oh, Kaylee," the other woman breathed, pulling her friend into a tight hug. "It'll be all right. Simon's just stressed from all that's happening."

"I wish that's all it was, 'Nara," Kaylee told her, pulling away and holding her friend's gaze. "But I don't think it is. I'm scared for him."

Squeezing her hands, Inara told her, "I know you are, Kaylee and it's because you love him. But you've just got to hang in there for a little longer, both of you."

Nodding once, Kaylee rose slowly, releasing a heavy sigh. "I know."

Inara watched as Kaylee moved for the door, her heart beating sharply against her rib cage for the other girl. Things were so incredibly strained right now, it was taking its toll on all of them, but it appeared to be affecting Simon and Kaylee the most. Walking her friend out into the hallway, Inara told her, "I'll come and see you both after I'm back, all right?"

With a soft sigh, Kaylee told her, "Yeah, 'Nara, that's be nice. Be careful," she warned quietly, moving back towards the room she was sharing with Simon. Inara watched her go, wishing she could blow off her client and help her friend, but she needed to keep up appearances.

Pushing her shoulders back and holding her head high, Inara strode proudly from the training house, trying to banish the thought of Mal from her mind. She wouldn't be able to do this if she thought of him. Instead, she had to rebuild those high, strong walls around her heart, the ones he had so easily circumvented months ago and forget that she was in love.

She was once again Inara Serra, Registered Companion, and Mal had never had any place in that life.

-- --

River's sweat-soaked hair clung to her cheeks and neck as she whirled and kicked. The blades fit perfectly in her hands as she wielded them expertly, moving with a fluidity that bespoke of unparalleled grace and unrivaled deadliness.

Slashing another of her opponents from sternum to navel, she spun quickly, plunging one curved blade into another attacker's chest, while kicking behind herself and connecting her boot with a sharp crack to another enemy's rib cage.

Panting as she continued the drill, River knew they were watching her. They had watched her every day this week for hours at a time, forcing her to relive this horrific fight, recording her reaction times, her movements, her technique. River knew she performed the same every time; that was, after all, how they had programmed her to be. An automaton with killer instincts and deadly precision; a living, breathing weapon who did not allow pesky things like morals to cloud her judgment.

As she counted through her expected death toll, River slowed slightly, knowing the battle was coming to an end. Whirling once more, she turned to land a decisive blow to her last attacker only to meet air. The rules had changed, the parameters of the battle altered, and River stumbled for a moment, trying to regain her balance.

Before she had time to collect her thoughts, she staggered back and fell hard as a booted foot collided with her mid-section. The wind knocked from her, River lay frozen in shock for a moment on the floor, before rising slowly, annoyance burning in her eyes as she sought out this new enemy. Coming face to face with another Reaver, River disposed of him quickly, slicing open his neck, his blood spilling onto her arms. A sharp kick to her kidneys threw River off balance again and she found herself scrambling to meet these new attackers.

They were not supposed to be here. As River adopted a new attack pattern, her mind recounted the last thirty minutes of battle and in each recollection she had disposed of the ninety-eight Reavers in the room. These new attackers were wrong, extraneous and it annoyed River that she had to continue to fight.

As two strong burly arms wrapped around her from behind, River's body tensed, searching for a way to break the hold. With her small arms pressed painfully into her sides, she panted as the attacker's grip squeezed her chest, another enemy appearing before her, raising a large knife and attempting to run her through. Using all of her weight, River swung her legs up, pushing forcefully against the knife-wielder's chest, while serving to throw the big man from behind to the floor. Hitting the ground on top of him, River rolled to her right and sprang into a fighter's stance, whipping her blades around and through his neck in one swift movement. As blood spilled onto the cold metal floor, mingling with the death of the others, River's mind barely registered that this face was one she knew, before turning to dispose of the other attacker.

Slashing again, a diagonal line from shoulder to hip bone, River's eyes widened in shock as the new body crumpled to the floor, almost cleaved in half, the dead eyes staring back at her once again familiar. With more confusion clouding her judgment, River took a step back, desperately grasping for a balance that would not come. Propelled by a primal need to keep fighting, River disposed of two more attackers, her mind's eye watching in horror as Inara and than Mal sank to the floor, their faces frozen in masks of death.

Raging, River whirled, searching for her captors, knowing they were watching with barely contained glee. She would make them pay for this. But before she could take the chance, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, signaling the approach of more danger, and without hesitation, River acted.

Whirling, she slashed one blade through the man's neck, the other blade driving deep into the woman's gut. And then, with startling clarity River read the astonished looks on both Simon's and Kaylee's faces as they fell to the ground, dead before River could even think to stop herself.

Sinking to her knees between them, the blood-soaked blades fell from River's hands, as she stared uncomprehendingly at the sight before her. Shaking, she stared at her hands through tear-filled eyes, making out the red, slimy liquid that coated them – the blood of her brother, the blood of her family – she was drenched in it, drowning, and River found herself clawing for air. Her chest heaved as she could not breathe, could not find the strength to slow her heart rate, to stop her tears.

Keening over, an anguished wail erupting from her, River continued to sob as Adamson and his men ended the simulation, the room clearing of the holographic bodies instantly, leaving a cold, sterile environment in their absence. The young woman, too bereft to notice, simply continued to sob.

-- --

Everything was red, his vision, his hands, his arms. The floor beneath his feet was slick with it and Simon's stomach turned as he realized it was blood – his blood and Kaylee's, Mal's and Inara's, Jayne's and Zoe's.

Chest heaving as panic overtook him, Simon's eyes roamed the room frantically, his hand gripping the gushing wound on his neck. Pulling away a bloody hand, he gasped audibly as his eyes set on River, scythes in her blood-stained hands plunging a sharp blade into Kaylee's gut.

"Kaylee!"

Simon's anguished cry was enough to wake the woman sleeping at his side and half the training house. Gasping for air, he placed his hand to his neck again, visibly relieved to pull it back clean. Whirling to Kaylee, her wide eyes full of concern for his agitated state, Simon pulled back the covers, checking her bare stomach for a wound, looking for blood.

As his hands and eyes explored her skin, his breathing more erratic, Kaylee tried to soothe him. Running her hands through his hair, she said softly, "Shh, sweetie, it's okay. It was just a dream."

Apparently convinced that she was indeed unharmed, Simon met her deep green eyes and then fell against her heavily, his arms around her. He held her so tightly Kaylee feared she may not be able to breathe. As he shook against her, still unable to catch a full breath as fear and dread coursed through him, Kaylee rocked him a bit and whispered, "You're okay. You was jus' dreamin'."

Kaylee squeezed her eyes shut, saying a silent prayer as she held him tight. Whatever was wrong with Simon was getting worse, much worse than even just a few days ago when she had gone to seek Inara's help. He could no longer sleep through the night and often woke screaming her name or River's. Her fingers slipping through his silky hair, Kaylee pressed a kiss to his cheek and asked, "You wanna tell me about it?"

Simon shook his head, reaffirming his hold on her. She was the only thing that made any sense to him right now, the only person who made him feel safe and normal and Simon was not about to lose that for anything. Besides, if he told her what he'd seen – his sister slashing them both and decimating the crew, Simon feared her reaction. Kaylee had the biggest heart of any person he had ever met, but even he knew that seemingly unending love had a limit.

Finally able to take a deep breath, Simon breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth several times, before pulling back from Kaylee. As his eyes met hers, he felt such a swell of love for her he knew it could easily cause his chest to burst. He felt something else though too, concern. But not his own; it was concern mixed with confusion and full of love. Blinking rapidly, Simon took Kaylee's face in his hands and stared. Biting her lip, Kaylee held the gaze, noting the intensity in his look, unwilling to break the spell.

Simon's bright blue eyes darted back and forth, trying to understand all he was feeling. Closing them abruptly, he took one more deep breath, trying to slow his heart beat and in an instant it became clear. Snapping his eyes back to hers, he whispered breathlessly, "You're worried."

Nodding hesitantly, Kaylee's brow furrowed slightly as she told him, "O' course I am, sweetie. I hate seein' ya like this." Running her hand down his cheek, Simon felt not only her touch, but the love behind it, the want for him to return the caress and the need for them to be together.

Without a word of explanation, he covered her mouth with his, kissing her gently, feeling Kaylee's initial shock dissipate as his tongue worked over her lower lip and into her mouth. Her desire spiking as Simon's strong hands rested at the small of her back and kneaded the skin there, Kaylee flattened herself against him and returned his passionate kiss, her tongue exploring his mouth with abandon.

Forced to part for air, they held one other's gazes, panting slightly. With a small smile, Kaylee again ran a hand down Simon's cheek and he sighed, not only from the physical sensation but from the emotion that came with it. Exhausted beyond reason and consumed with his own worry and fear, Simon wasn't sure why he felt he could sense Kaylee's emotions as well. But they were so clear to him, if he concentrated. Like now, her need to be strong for him was warring with her fear and Simon knew it – knew it in a way he shouldn't and while it scared him to no end, he also found the knowledge strangely empowering. Cradling her face in his hands again, Simon murmured, "I'll be okay."

Her smile deepening, Kaylee told him, "I know that," even as Simon felt her doubt rage through her mind.

Shaking his head lightly, he told her again, "I will, Kaylee. I'll be okay." Brushing another kiss to her lips, he told her, "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie," she murmured back, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tight.

As he sank back with her into the mattress, tangled in her arms, Simon felt more relaxed than he had for weeks. Stroking her soft skin, his mind instantly wandered back to the dreamscape and with a small shudder, he finally admitted, "We have to get her back, Kay."

Tensing slightly, Kaylee took a deep breath and then lifted her eyes to meet his. "We will," she said softly.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Simon nodded and said, "I know, but it's got to be soon." Or we'll lose her.

He did not admit that to Kaylee, did not admit how close his sister was from disappearing forever. She was steps away from being irrevocably altered and Simon feared what that transformation might yield. And he feared what it would do to him if he truly lost his baby sister.

With another shudder and a heavy sigh, Simon tried to hold onto the feelings of peace Kaylee had inspired only moments ago and go back to sleep. However, it was a long night of staring at nothing for the unnerved doctor.

-- --

The large estate came into view, the lights and grandeur of the place as familiar to Inara as her shuttle on Serenity. Once, not so long ago, she would have relished the opportunity to attend such an event. On the arm of selected client, dressed in her finest silks and wearing her perfect veneer, Inara Serra would have worked the room, circulating among Londinium's elite like a prima ballerina.

The hovercar rumbled to a stop and Inara forced herself to take a deep breath. Waiting for the driver to help her out, she willed her stomach to stop churning and then plastered her biggest smile to her face. Stepping out into the cool night air, Inara pulled her black lace shawl about her bare shoulders, the red strapless gown she wore swishing with each step, the click of her heels barely audible over the noise. Ascending the stairs regally, she was greeted at the top by a tall, broad-shouldered man, his brown hair clipped close to his scalp, his eyes a muddy brown. He looked almost exactly like his photo, blue uniform and all and Inara inclined her head to him in greeting, as he stepped forward to take her hand.

Bending over, he brushed his lips against it, his eyes never leaving her face. "Miss Serra, your registry photo does not do you justice," he said, his tone full of confidence. Slipping her hand through his bent arm, he said, "I am thrilled that you deigned to be on my arm this evening."

Inara could only smile as she said, "Well, thank you, Commander Ling. I assure you the pleasure is mine."

They stepped through the grand doors of the estate into a high-ceilinged foyer. The marble they walked on was white and gleaming and Inara's eyes swept the room, taking in all the finery, the glittering chandelier, the heavy drapes, the other guests bedecked in jewelry so expensive it could buy Serenity a hundred times over.

"And please," Inara told her date, laying her other hand lightly against his arm and leaning in. "Call me Inara."

With a wide smile that Inara was not too certain she liked the commander nodded once and said, "Then you must call me Michael, Inara."

Nodding once in acquiescence, Inara's next statement was cut off as Michael was greeted by a fellow officer, a general according to the bars on his shoulder. Using the distraction to her advantage, Inara's eyes roamed the room, looking for any one she might recognize. She had been studying vids on the Cortex of Parliament officials and other highly placed Londinium authorities. She needed to be sure she spoke with or overheard the right people; this was her last chance to find out something that could help Mal.

"Inara, don't tell me I've lost your interest all ready."

The slightly playful voice sounded at her shoulder and Inara turned with another big smile as Michael's eyes studied her intently. "Of course not, Michael. I was just looking to get us some drinks."

"Well, allow me," he told her chivalrously, stepping away with a small bow and heading across the room. Alone, Inara's gaze again scanned the room and with an easy gait, she moved across the way to a small cluster of officials whom she thought she recognized.

Surreptitiously stationing herself to the outside of their circle, she nonchalantly watched the couples dancing in the middle of the room as one of the men spoke up.

"Do you really think the Prime Minister will kill them?"

"Why wouldn't he? It's not as if they didn't cause him some embarrassment."

"But surely the Miranda rumors are just a hoax."

An uncomfortable silence greeted this last statement and Inara fought the urge to scream out a denial. She wished it had been a rumor.

"The fact remains that they committed treason. Even if it's true, that recording should never have been broadcasted in such a careless manner."

"There you are."

With a slight jump Inara turned to regard Ling as he held out a champagne glass to her. Noting her momentary start, he asked quietly, "Are you all right, my dear?"

Smiling sweetly to him, Inara took a sip of her drink to mask the tremor in her voice. "Of course," she finally said. Placing a light hand to his arm, she drew him away from the group she'd been listening too, and stated, "I'm surprised that a man such as yourself could get away this evening." As Michael's look turned to one of confusion, she elaborated, "What with the trial and all."

"Ah yes," he said, taking a sip of his own drink. "Those hun dans have kept us rather busy, but it will be over soon enough."

Swallowing hard, Inara continued to feign innocence as she asked, "Oh? What do you mean?"

Turning to her, Michael regared her coolly for a moment, his lips pursed in a look of pure examination. Inara held the gaze, fully aware that she had tipped her hand too early. Before he had time to speak, she took his glass and set it down with hers on a nearby table. Offering him her gloved hand, she asked, "Care to dance?"

"With the most beautiful woman in the room?" Spinning her out into the middle of the dance floor, Inara tried to ignore the churning in her gut as he pulled her very close. "I'd be delighted."

-- --

"Stop!"

River's scream was loud and long, piercing the ears of Adamson and his men as they regarded her through the one-way glass. Sinking to her knees, she fell forward on her stomach, her arms covering her head as her body shook uncontrollably.

She had stopped her training exercise in the midst of killing her brother and Adamson was not pleased. For the past five days, he had been running this simulation with her and every time she had killed the crew, including her beloved Simon, with little forethought. But today, she seemed to be more coherent, cognizant of her deadly actions and she was resisting. But not if Adamson could help it.

Nodding to his right, he told the doctor, "Drug her again."

His eyes widening slightly as he realized just how much of the hallucinogen was in the girl's blood, the older man said, "She'll fight me." The bruise to his temple from his dosage administration that morning underlined his point.

Looking to Beta and Omega, the blue-handed agents were out the door before he'd said a word. "No she won't," Adamson told the doctor.

He watched with a detached interest as the three men entered the room. River tensed as the blue-hands hauled her to her feet. With a sharp kick to the right, she knocked Omega to the ground as Beta jammed his fist into her side, cracking at least one rib and causing the young killer to cry out in pain.

Seeing his opportunity, the doctor stepped forward and jammed the syringe into River's thigh before hurriedly stepping back and out of the room. Beta helped Omega up and out and again in the observation room, all four men watched as River Tam again turned a feral look in their direction and began to kill.

-- --

It was night time again on Londinium and Simon had given up trying to sleep. There was no point to it anymore. Yes, he still loved the feel of Kaylee in his arms as he tried to drift off, but as the week had passed his dreams had become more vibrant, more real and they were causing Simon more and more discomfort.

He could barely eat or sleep and it was taking its toll. With a heavy sigh, Simon dropped onto a nearby bench, grateful for the cool night air that breezed over him. He was out in the house's garden, a beautiful and fragrant collection of flowers, most of which he had not seen since leaving Osiris. His mother had had a garden too, a rose garden. Closing his eyes for a moment, Simon's mind wandered back almost two decades and he could remember the light in his mother's eyes as she had tried to instruct him on the proper way to prune a bush.

When his ten-year-old sensibilities could not handle it, she had simply waved him away, telling him to play with his baby sister. Young Simon had accepted the task willingly; after all, River was two and just starting to be fun. Chasing her about the yard, Simon laughed as he remembered her squeals of delight every time he got close and then let her get farther away.

"'Imon, 'Imon," she would chant, not quite having a grasp on esses yet.

"I'll get you River," he would call coming within inches. One time he hadn't been watching closely enough and she had tripped, going down hard on her knees in the gravel path and skinning them.

Those big, brown eyes had looked up to him full of tears as she'd wailed, "'Imon, ouch."

With a gasp, Simon's eyes snapped open and he was back in the garden in Londinium. Rubbing at his knees as the residual pain of the memory lingered, Simon buried his face in his hands. What was happening to him? This was more than sympathy, these feelings he was having; these visions of his sister were more than imaginings – they were real.

Shivering, Simon wrapped his arms around himself as he rose and began pacing again. It wasn't possible; as a doctor and a fairly smart one, he knew that. Of course, the past year and a half with his sister had taught him more about the limitless possibilities of the human body and mind than he had ever hoped to learn in medical school, but still … Simon's very smart brain could not wrap around the fact that he might be experiencing some kind of sixth sense, like his sister.

"Hey you."

Whirling, Simon took in Kaylee's silhouetted form, standing in the doorway to the house and he let out a sigh of relief. Instantly, he felt more at peace just knowing she was close, but he also felt more fear well in his chest – her fear, for him.

"Hey," he said quietly, making no move to approach her.

Staring at him for only a second more, Kaylee wrapped her arms around herself and stepped towards him. Once she was in front of him, she turned her big green eyes up to him and asked softly, "You okay?"

Simon held her gaze, easily lost in her wide eyes. They showed him everything and Simon marveled once again at his bao bei's openness. There wasn't anything she tried to hide from him. Even her anxiety and fear were swirling in those green pools, Simon could see it, right next to her love for him.

That honesty was why he couldn't lie to her now. Shaking his head slightly, he told her quietly, "No, Kaylee, I'm not."

Without a word, Kaylee got closer and wrapped her arms around him, her cheek resting against his shoulder. Simon wondered for a brief second if perhaps she was psychic – how else could she have known that her touch was what he needed. Holding her back, Simon's hands rubbed small circles on her back and Kaylee sighed slightly.

"We'll be okay," she murmured. "You'll see. An' River'll be okay too an' soon we'll all be back together."

"I wish I could believe that, bao bei," Simon whispered into her hair.

Tilting her face up, Kaylee said firmly, "You gotta, Simon. We gotta believe that or we ain't never gonna get through this."

Her determination was like a slap to his mind and Simon started slightly as he read that fierceness from her. Gently brushing her hair back from her face, Simon told her, "I'm so sorry, for all of this."

Covering his hands with her own, Kaylee told him sincerely, "There ain't nothin' to be sorry for. I love you, you boob," she teased, trying desperately to break the tension. "An' I would go through all this again if'n it meant I still got to have you in my life."

Brushing his lips to hers, Simon sighed and told her, "I am unbelievably lucky."

"You got that right," Kaylee teased. Pulling away from him, she tugged on his hand and said, "Can you at least try to come to bed?" As Simon hesitated, she added coyly, "You know I can't sleep if'n you ain't there."

Smiling slightly, Simon nodded and followed her inside, wishing he could have as much faith as Kaylee.

-- --

"Michael, you didn't really fight in the battle of Serenity, did you?" Inara's incredulous tone was the first one she had not faked all evening. After showering Ling with compliments, niceties and numerous false laughs, she finally felt she was making some headway. Now, as they discussed his war record, her stomach roiled violently as she realized that the man whose arm she had been on all night might very well have shot and killed most of Mal's unit.

With a proud smile that only made her more nauseous, Michael downed the rest of his drink, a stiff brandy and said, "I did indeed." Leaning towards her, she smelled the rich alcohol on his breath as he whispered, "And lived to tell the tale. How many men can say that?"

I can think of one. Inara bit back her retort and then gently leaned in, making sure her body was just brushing against the commander's arm. "I can't believe a brave man like yourself would want to work in the Prime Minister's personal security force." Watching as his eyes widened at the implied insult, Inara frowned slightly and added, "Isn't it, kind of, boring?"

"I can assure you, it's anything but that," Michael told her, signaling a waiter to bring him another. "Look at this whole Miranda scenario. After that broadwave, we spent a full two months doing constant surveillance sweeps, drills and all kinds of reconnaissance, trying to protect the prime minister and paraliament."

Trying to remain calm as Inara realized she'd finally led the man down the path she needed, she prompted, "Yes, that was a nasty business. Is it true they have some of the perpetrators in custody?"

"Absolutely," Ling confided, dropping his voice to a whisper. "And even better, they're going to be executed."

Her heart clenching with unnatural fear, Inara breathed, "What? I thought they were to stand trial?"

Rolling his eyes, Michael told her, "There isn't going to be a trial." With a sick laugh, he again occupied himself with his fresh glass of brandy and Inara sat back, doing her best not to faint.

Mal was going to die. Inara had become more and more convinced of that as the evening had gone on. On Ling's arm she had been introduced to more members of Parliament, including Dresden himself, than just about anyone else in the room. And the conversations had always gone the same way – drifting towards the impending trial of the traitors, each person in attendance tonight was out for blood. And now, Michael had just confirmed it.

Leaning back against the lounge they sat on, Inara closed her eyes and breathed deeply. A hand to her knee startled her and jumping, she opened her eyes to regard Michael's quizzical face. "My dear, you're looking a bit pale."

"Am I?" Inara asked needlessly, knowing that she must indeed look as if she'd seen a ghost. Rising, she swayed a bit on her feet for a moment before regaining her balance. "Must be too much champagne. I'll be right back."

She was barely out the door before Ling's firm hand was around her elbow. Turning to regard him, Inara asked easily, "Yes?"

Studying her intently, Inara felt her resolve melting under her date's scrutiny. He was on to her. "You've been trying to get information on the trial all night." It was a statement, not a question and so Inara did nothing but stare back at him. Pursing his lips, he asked, "A personal interest, perhaps?"

Drawing herself up to her full height, Inara told him, "Commander, I am a member of the Alliance and the Guild. We do not condone treason in any form. I simply wish to ensure that these traitors will be brought to justice." Forgive me, Mal.

Guiding her from the room and into an empty hallway, Ling's hand was still around her elbow as he said, "Really? I don't think a woman interested in justice would be so easily affected by the mention of a simple execution."

"I am not a barbarian," Inara shot back, her own feelings about capital punishment, regardless of the criminal, shining through. Of course, in the case of her boyfriend, she would always be anti-execution. "I believe there are more humane ways to deal with criminals."

"I'm sure you do," Ling said softly, his eyes raking over her form. Inara willed herself to remain still. As silence stretched between them, Michael's eyes back again on her face, Inara did her best to stay impassive. Finally, she asked, "I really would like to freshen up, if you don't mind?"

Taking a step back, Inara was able to move past the commander and towards the nearest restroom, before Ling's voice stopped her dead in her tracks. "I can get you in to see him."

Later Inara would curse her stupidity and her transparency. But at that moment the thought of seeing Mal regardless of the location was enough to cause her heart to stop. Realizing the minute she'd stopped walking she'd given herself away, Inara waited, listening as the heavy footfalls of Ling approached her from behind.

His mouth down by her ear, he whispered, "I had a feeling it was the brigand you were interested in." Dropping a kiss to her cheek, he added, "Noble women, such as yourself, always fall for the bad boy."

Turning slowly, Inara asked, "Can you really get me into see him?"

Sighing, Ling took a step back and said, "Of course. I'm the one that escorted him to his cell in the first place." Folding his arms across his chest, he smiled slightly and said, "Well, escorted might be the wrong word; shoved might be more appropriate."

Fighting the bile that raced up her throat, Inara said evenly, "I would be very grateful if it could be arranged for me to see Captain Reynolds."

With another wide smile, Ling told her, "Well of course, Inara." Gently pushing her towards the restroom, he added, "We can go in just a bit, but you really should freshen up first." As Inara's brow furrowed, he added with a sly grin, "We do need to finish our date."

Inara's stomach lurched again as she turned and fled the hallway. Once enclosed in the bathroom, she locked the door and sank to the floor, her back leaning against the cooler wood. She had known it was too good to be true; had known that after her two previous dates she had been more than lucky to get away from both clients without them demanding sex from her. But they had been older men, widowers, interested in her for the true definition of her job.

But not Ling. Secretly, Inara had suspected all along that this evening would end with her forfeiting her body to another man, a man who was not Mal, a man who did not love her and whom she did not love.

Standing slowly, Inara regarded her pale features in the mirror. "So, I really am a whore," she whispered, unable to even muster a tear at the thought of cheating on Mal. It's not cheating, she told herself firmly, reaching into her small bag and pulling out a lipstick. It's just a client, like the hundreds before. It's not any different than those others.

This was the mantra Inara would use all night; the empty assurances she would repeat as Ling took her back to his place and brought her into the bedroom with no pretense. These were the words she would repeat to herself as she let Ling's hands undress her and touch her bare skin, as she let him put his mouth all over her body, as she allowed him to enter her with hard and quick thrusts. Inara had never once felt dirty for the work she did, but as Ling's burly form hovered above her, the release of his hot seed inside of her, Inara felt a tear leak out of the corner of her eye. She feared she would never be clean again.

As Ling rolled off of her and fell asleep almost immediately, Inara rolled onto her side and cried silently. Forgive me, Mal.

-- --