Chapter 2: Set-up

"If she starts acting . . . unstable find me," Simon said very quietly to Inara, who was listening to him with the patience of someone who has no intention of following instructions, but does not want the person who's giving the instructions to know her true intent. "I'm going to find a bench or something close to the ship and wait."

They were walking out of the air lock and into a long clear tube. To the right or left they could see the other docked ships above them the vastness of the stars, moving slightly to the right as the asteroid turned. Kaylee was walking with River, pointing out different ships and explaining why Serenity was by far the best ship docked. River wasn't paying any attention, she was walking along slowly staring at the sky.

"Wait for her to become unstable?" Inara asked.

Simon hesitated, "I didn't say that."

"We will take very good care of River," Inara said earnestly. "You don't have to worry."

"I'm sorry," Simon said. "I didn't mean to imply . . ."

"What is the doctor implying?" Captain Reynolds asked, steeping up to the conversation jovially. "Nothing indecent I hope. Or are you bending your strict polices for our young physician, Ambassador?

"Mal, you of all people should know I don't bend my polices," Inara quipped coolly. "Kaylee and I are taking River shopping. The good Doctor here was just trying to assure himself that his sister will be able to survive five hours without him."

"You're letting a whore baby-sit your crazy sister," Mal said, turning to the doctor as if he were impressed. "Brave man."

Simon glanced away, intimidated and embarrassed. Inara got mad. "Now that you've alienated two out of three people in this conversation maybe you would tell us why you interjected in the first place," she said, smiling boldly, almost challengingly.

"I'm here for the doctor. He and I are gonna go on a little shopping trip of our own."

"We are, sir?" Simon said, obviously uncomfortable.

"Yeah, you got that list for the Infirmary?"

"Yes . . ."

"Well, we're gonna see what we can do to make it shorter. I mean, it's a damn shame that the ship's medic has to go to the ship's companion for immunization packs," he glanced at Inara, she didn't react. He didn't have to glance at Simon to know the boy was looking at the ground. "That just ain't right."

"Well, I hope you two boys have fun," Inara said.

"Yeah," the Captain said, slapping Simon on the back, making the boy wince. "We'll have a blast. You girls too."

"Don't worry over us, Captain."

Reynolds smiled the way he smiled only when he was lying, "I never do."

* * *

Shepherd Book walked into the Chapel of Redeemer's Haven and felt immediately at home. The large sanctuary was nearly empty but still it seemed filled with the spirit and with life. To his right a Shepherdess was teaching a group of young children the story of Balamm and his donkey from the book of Numbers. It was, as Book recalled, the only part of the book of Numbers that children would be interested in. And from the laughter that echoed off the high rafters of the chapel when the shepherdess described Balaam's reaction to his beast's sudden articulations, Book couldn't help but smile. It was a good story to remember. Sometimes those who seem to be opposing us are really saving us, sometimes the brick walls that fly in our face are for our own protection.

Book was somewhat lost in this meditation when a kind hand was placed on his shoulder, "Brother," the soft voice of a younger man said. "Welcome to our chapel."

"Thank you," Book said, pulling himself away from the children and their wide-eyed wonder at the Shepherdess's description of the Angel of the Lord.

"I see Shepherdess Maria has captivated you with her story," the fellow Shepherd said.

"I'm not the only one," Book observed, looking back to the children. "Shepherdess Marie has quite a gift."

"Yes she does," the younger Shepard said with admiration. "We are truly blessed to have her here. God is evident in her work with this city's children. The children come for the stories, the parents come for the children, and the gospel is preached. I wouldn't be able to get the attention of even the most desolate scoundrel on this station, not to mention the most prosperous business owners without Maria."

"Then are you the head Shepherd?"

"The only Shepherd," the young man laughed. "It's just me and Maria. My name is Core, by the way."

"They call me Book."

"I'm glad to meet you, Shepard Book. It's not often we get pilgrims."

"Well, I'm not a pilgrim, per se, I'm more of a traveler. Goin' towards nowhere, mind you, just savoring the trip. I was hopin' I'd find a nice chapel here on Harpper's Point where I could pray."

"We have a prayer room in the back," Shepard Core, said, motioning towards a door in the front of the chapel, to the right of the altar. "Candles, icons, statues, a true place of peace."

Book chuckled, "I have found peace is a rare commodity out here, you're lucky to have it in such abundance."

"Not lucky, blessed," Shepard Core said. "And I would consider myself blessed if you'd let me pray with you."

"Brother Core, I can't think of anything that would please me more."

* * *

"No, no, you don't want those, you want the red ones."

"These are cheaper," Mal said forcefully. "We ain't got no big city budget to work with. Just the essentials."

"The bandages in the silver packets are cheaper because they use synthesized fibrils to speed collogulation."

"Ah," Reynolds said. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"Recent studies have shown that over exposure to those kinds of bandages are the leading cause of strokes among those in the health care profession. They've been banned in the central worlds."

"Imagine that's why there so cheap, then," Mal said, putting the package down very carefully, as if he could get a stroke from just touching it. "But those red ones, they don't make you sick?"

"They just have vitamin K," Simon said, examining an assortment of antibiotics.

"And that don't cause stroke?"

"It can make your skin orange if you have to much of it."

"Is orange skin harmful?"

"To your health?" Simon asked. "Not at all."

"So, a crate of red bandages," Mal said. "What else?"

"Well, I'd like to get about three hundred grams of amoxicillin."

"Three hundred grams? That's a hell'a'va . . ."

"There are nine people on you're ship, Captain, breathing the same recycled air," Simon said. "If one of us gets sick we will all get sick. Amoxicillin is the cheapest and the most dependable antibiotic available."

Reynolds nodded. "You use a lot of that stuff back at your big hospital."

"No," Simon answered. "There are plenty of designer antibiotics for the diseases that are common back there. But each planet has its own unique germs and bacteria. They'd be worthless. Amoxicillin is our best bet."

"Right, three hundred grams of Amoxicillin."

"And another three hundred of Aspirin."

"Aspirin?" Reynolds asked again. "Nobody on this ships get powerful 'nuf headachs that . . ."

"Aspirin is the best all around medication for simple pain relief and bringing down a fever," Simon said forcefully. "Are you going to question all of my requests or are you going to trust that, as a doctor, I understand what is needed to keep your crew alive."

"Like you understood what was needed to keep Kaylee alive?"

Simon felt like the floor had just dropped out from under him. "I'm, I'm sorry."

Mal didn't say anything. He just watched as the doctor brewed in his own shame and guilt. It wasn't fair, Mal knew that. The young doctor really was a man of integrity. He'd given almost everything up to protect his sister, the creature comforts of the city, a well paying job, a life without fear. But he hadn't given up his oath as a doctor, to do no harm. Well, yes, there was the thing with Kaylee, but he hadn't really done harm, and the kid obviously felt like hell every time he was reminded of it. Mal had considered not reminding him of it but dismissed the thought rather quickly. The kid took everything so seriously, playing him like this was just too much fun.

"We probably won't need that much aspirin, or amoxicillin for that matter," Simon said apologetically. "You could cut the orders down to two-hundred grams amoxicillin and One-fifty of aspirin. It's just that, in an emergency, I didn't want to be lacking."

"Don't worry, Doctor, I'm sure that you won't be lacking," Mal said, trying to offer the boy a supportive smile. Simon just looked confused. "We'll get three hundred grams a each."

"Thank you sir."

"Good God Mal," a rough voice boomed from somewhere behind them. Both Simon and Mal turned to see its source. Simon saw three large, muscular, clean cut men in bright blue uniforms. Mal saw trouble.

"Did you just call that boy 'doctor'," The largest man asked. "And did he just call you 'sir'?"

"Not that it's any of your business, Kurt, but yes," Mal said, placing his hands on his hips, making it very clear to everyone that he was armed. "Simon, why don't you go find us a clerk and order up those drugs and whatever else you think you'll be needin'."

"Yes sir," Simon said quickly, turning towards the pharmaceutical counter in the Medical Supply Warehouse.

He hadn't gone two steps before he heard the rough voice say, "No, Simon, wait up."

Without thinking the doctor turned at the sound of his name; he heard Mal sigh and wished he'd kept going, "Do you want something?" the young man asked, praying the answer was 'no.'

"You a doctor?"

"Yes I am," Simon said cautiously. "Why do you ask?"

"We needs a doctor," Kurt said, smiling at the very large man to his right before turning his beady mud colored eyes back towards Simon. "And we need him quick. Ya look young but I reckon you'll do."

Simon suddenly found himself very, very afraid. Even though these men looked more respectable than Captain Reynolds and his crew, there was something about them that Simon couldn't place that felt wrong. The boy found himself wishing Jayne was there, the realization of which was almost as disturbing as the situation. He started edging his way back to the captain, "Do what?" he asked.

"Do it matter?" the smaller man to Kurt's left asked. "Doctorin's Doctorin'."

"It matters because this happens to be my doctor," Mal said, stepping forward and placing himself, more or less, between the three men and Simon. "Bound to me by all laws and rights that count out here."

"What you sayin' Reynolds?" Kurt asked. "You gonna charge us fer the use of your doctor?"

"Captain, I'm really uncomfortable with . . . " Simon started.

"Shut up, boy," Mal snapped, taking a step closer to the burly men. "I don't see why I shouldn't charge you for the doctor's services. If y'all went to a civilized planet, one with a hospital and whatnot then you'd be payin' top dollar for doctorin'."

"You know Old Cash," the smallest of the three men said. "He'd never go to a hospital."

"Old Cash's taken ill, is he?" Mal asked.

"He's taken somethin'," Kurt supplied. "How much you want for the doctor?"

"Captain Reynolds," Simon said, eyeing the men fearfully. "Mal, please . . ."

"Now when I tell you to shutup, I expect you to stay shutup," Mal snapped, making the doctor wince. Then he turned back to the three well groomed, uniformed brutes in front of them. "You get a little schoolin' in a boy's head an' he thinks he's better'n 'is Captain."

"How much you want?" the smallest man said, pulling out a purse.

"Well," Mal said slowly. "Ten ought'a . . ."

"Ten!" Kurt scoffed. "You hong ya bing hun dan. Why would we pay that?"

"Your right," Mal said nodding. "I was being foolish, Fifteen."

"No," the smallest man said. "Out of the question."

"Now's who's the greedy bastard? You're captain's dying and you know medical care on a civilized planet would cost three times that, at least. You think this kid's a damn meng gu di fu? Truth be told he's the best doctor you'll find in a light-year, no question. Went to the best med-school, graduated top three percent of his class. Worked ER in the best hospital in Capitol City. If I didn't owe Old Cash for that time on Apollo Three, I'd be chargin' a hell of a lot more."

"Fei hau," Kurt spit. "Why'd a guy give all that up to fly round in your rust bucket?"

"He killed a man in cold blood," Mal said quickly and simply. "Shot him through the head, Alliance don't smile on that sort of behavior."

"Why?" The smallest man asked.

"Prob'ly 'cause they're the law and they gotta prove they've got the power," Mal supplied.

"Naw, I mean, I'm just wond'rin why such a smart doctr'd throw all that success away to kill a man."

"The hun dan was lookin' at his sister. Wasn't he, boy?" Mal said, throwing a significant glance to the young doctor.

Simon licked his lips and tried very hard to lie, "Yes, yes," he said much too quickly and rigidly. "A man looked at my sister so I killed him. In cold blood. With a gun."

Mal blinked, swallowed, and turned back to the men and tried to smile. "Well, there you have it gentlemen. Fifteen for an afternoon with the big city doctor. Take it or leave it."

The three paused for a moment and then the smallest of the three huge men pulled out a purse. "Ten for an afternoon with the doctor. If the kid's as good as you say an' Cap'in gets better we'll give you the other five."

Mal nodded, "Seems reasonable. Now, if you don't mind," The Captain said, placing his hand on Simon's shoulder. "I gotta exchange a few words in privet with the doc here and you can be on your way."

"Din' ya hear us?" the smaller man said. "This is an emergency!"

"Well, then, you can go find yerself another doctor, cause I can't let my boy here go without exchangin' a few words."

"'Friad he'll run off on you?" Kurt laughed.

"With such gents like you showin' him round the Betty-Lou, mayhaps," Mal said with a smile. "S'if you don't mind."

Mal took a few steps back and turned around, Simon followed suit and soon found himself listening, bewildered, as the captain spoke quickly in a hushed voice. "Now, listen son, you may be a fugitive from the law, but you ain't a very good one, so I'm gonna help you out. I know these guys. Old Cash ain't the type to give somin' or someone up if he thinks you're worth keepin' and these thugs'll do anything he tell's em so you've gotta be on your toes."

"I never agreed to this, Captain," Simon said firmly.

"If these guys woulda' found you without me around and asked for help, would'ja'of?"

"What?" Simon asked, "Helped them?"

Reynolds nodded.

Simon hesitated a moment before admitting, "Yes. I would have."

"An' now your gettin' paid fer that work."

Simon wanted to protest, to say that he didn't want to be paid if it meant being Malcolm Reynolds' ma fan. But he didn't quite have the conviction for that. He felt acutely how much he owed Captain Reynolds, he wouldn't mind getting an opportunity to pay a little of that back.

"Now, I don't trust these boy's much further than I could spit em, so I want you to take this."

Mal handed Simon a small black box. "What is it," the boy asked.

"It's half of a two way transmitter. Anything seem even a little bit fishy to you, press that red button, Jayne an' me'll come fetch you."

"Captain," Simon said, mystified by this sudden concern. "Ignoring the rather obvious question of 'Why are you carrying a transmitter in your pocket.' If you're so concerned about me, why are you letting me go?"

"I don't own you doctor," Mal said. "You can go or stay as you like."

Simon hesitated for a moment, "If a man's dying," he finally said slowly. "I should go."

Mal smiled and placed the transmitter in Simon's hand. "Like I said, I know these men," he said. "I'll be waitin' on you."

To be continued . . .

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