"Where am I?" a very soft an weak voice said, pulling Simon away from the medical encyclopedia, which he'd been poring over for the past two hours.

The young doctor turned to see Evangeline, pail and slightly trembling, trying to push herself into a sitting position. "No, don't," Simon said quickly, stumbling a little as he hurried to attend the young girl. "Don't try and get up. Just lie there."

"Who are you?" The girl demanded, obviously upset as she disobeyed his orders and forced herself into a sitting position. "This isn't home. Are you a kidnapper?"

"No, you're on a ship, I'm a doctor."

The girl stared at him blankly.

"Didn't your family tell you that you'd be going on a trip?"

"A trip?" the she, calming just a little. "Mama said we were leaving."

"Well you've, ah, you've left."

"You're a doctor?" the girl asked, somewhat suspiciously.

"Yes I am," Simon said, daring to take a step closer to the beautiful little girl. She reminded him of the porcelain dolls River had collected as a little girl. There was almost no pigment in her skin, her lips had a slightly purplish tint, her flaxen hair was a mess of perfect ringlet curls and her eyes were a hauntingly deep blue. Small and thin for a thirteen-year-old, she looked fragile and every time she moved Simon couldn't quite shake the feeling that she would shatter. "I'm going to be taking care of you for the next few days, until we reach New Dallas."

"What kind of doctor?" the girl asked. She was clearly unimpressed by him and his infirmary.

"I guess I'm more or less a general practitioner," Simon said after a moment of hesitation.

"You don't know?" Evangeline asked.

"I was a surgeon, until I joined the crew of Serenity."

"The crew of what?"

"Oh, this ship, her name's Serenity."

"Is she serene?"

Simon smiled softly, "Not usually."

"It's a dumb name."

The doctor felt oddly offended by the girl's observation. He'd had similar thoughts regarding the ship's name in the past but Serenity was slowly becoming home, and her crew family. He didn't really feel passionate enough to defend the Firefly, but on the other hand, he didn't like hearing a word against her.

"What would you name a ship, if you had one?" Simon asked.

"Are you trying to be my friend?" Evangeline asked suspiciously.

Simon wasn't sure how to answer that. "I'm trying to make you comfortable. If that, to you, implies friendship, then, yes: I'm trying to be your friend."

"But you won't make me better," the girl said with a note of finality.

"Probably not," Simon said sadly. "I'm not even sure what's wrong with you."

"I'm sick," the girl said. "I've always been sick."

"Does your sickness have a name?"

"I don't know," the girl said snappishly. "You're the doctor."

Simon starred at her dumbfounded for a second before he was rescued by Kaylee breezing into the infirmary

"Yer up, Doc," Kaylee said, her voice was not nearly as chipper or playful as it usually was.

"I'm up?" Simon asked cautiously, turning away from the fragile little girl towards the far sturdier young woman. "What exactly . . ."

"Doctor Tambarino," Mrs. Kubat said. She entered the room like one would enter a grand ball, head held high, chest out, expecting a soft gasp from the starring crowed at the splendor of her appearance. Kaylee, who was just smiling at Simon the way she always smiled when she was half furious, half amused at a situation, didn't gasp. Simon, who knew his fear of Mrs. Kubat was largely unfounded, but feared her anyways, didn't gasp, but he did stare. Evangeline smiled and seemed to brighten up, as much as her complexion would allow, at the sight of her mother.

"Mama," the girl said joyfully.

"How is my daughter?" Mrs. Kubat asked, clearly talking to Dr. Tam. Evangeline's smile disappeared.

"I honestly don't know," Simon said, noticing the young girl's reaction. "Why don't you ask her?"

"She's only a child," the woman said. "You are a doctor."

"She has a larger basis of comparison to work with," Simon said. "I've only been observing her for a matter of hours. She knows how she feels now, and how she's felt in the past. At this point she's far more qualified to give you an answer."

"So she's conscious?"

"You can clearly see she is," Simon said with an unusual tension in his voice.

"Does she have an appetite?"

"I don't know," Simon said with a frustrated sigh. He turned to the girl, "Evangeline, are you hungry?"

"Do you have soup?" the little girl asked, clearly thrilled that she was being given attention.

"Sure," forgotten Kaylee said, stepping away from her place by the door. "We got soup. Tomato and Chicken broth wi' Stars."

"She doesn't need soup," Mrs. Kubat said, her voice low and threatening. "Her dinner is prepared."

"Oh, it ain't no trouble," Kaylee said. "I's not every day ya get ta go up in a ship, might as well make it special."

"Mama, please, can I have tomato soup?" the little girl practically begged.

"It's nothing but red powder and hot water," Mrs. Kubat snapped.

"Than it couldn't possibly do any harm," Simon said simply.

Mrs. Kubat shot the young doctor a spiteful look, Simon felt cold all over, but didn't back down. "Kaylee," he said, turning to the young mechanic. Seeing her smile warmed him back up. "Why don't you go make Evangeline a cup of tomato soup?"

"Right away doctor," Kaylee said, giving him a smile that made him feel like he was a sort of hero, defender of sick little girls. Unfortunately, that feeling dissipated as soon Kaylee left the room and he was alone with the icy Mrs. Kubat.

"You shouldn't have done that," the woman said with cold fury. "I am her mother."

"And I'm her doctor," Simon insisted, calmly but firmly. "And as far as I've seen there's no medical reason Evangeline can't have a cup of soup."

"Evangeline is under a very strict diet," Mrs. Kubat said, scanning the infirmary obviously looking for something. "Your cook was bringing down Evangeline's dinner."

"Kaylee's actually the mechanic," Simon said. "If your daughter had a special diet I really should have been notified of it much earlier."

"What does it matter?" Mrs. Kubat asked. "Her diet's no concern."

"Yes it is," Simon said. "Her diet is extremely important."

"Oh here it is, Evangeline, dear," Mrs. Kubat said, walking over to the counter near where Kaylee had been standing and picking up a bowl with a cloth over it. "Ready for dinner?"

"Can't I just have soup?" the girl pleaded.

"If you finish this you can," the lady said, slipping the cloth off the bowl and exposing the girls dinner. It was nothing but a white mush that smelled slightly like a fish market. Simon was hard pressed to think of a less appetizing meal and felt, with a fair amount of certainty, that the poor girl would not be able to eat all of the pasty meal.

"Mrs. Kubat," Simon said firmly. "I feel that Evangeline should be allowed to drink her soup regardless of whether or not she finishes that," he looked at it and his stomach turned, "meal."

"You are not her mother."

"I am her doctor," Simon insisted. "Unless you can give me a sound medical reason for her to eat that and not the soup than I'm going to have to insist . . ."

"You are an insolent young man!"

"Your daughter needs to eat," Simon insisted. "No one has given me any clue as to what is wrong with her and, quite frankly, her symptoms match those of malnutrition."

There was a loud crack. Simon staggered and stars danced before his eyes as his hand flew up to his cheek. She'd slapped him. The very idea was almost as shocking as the hit had been.

"Wha's goin' on?" Kaylee asked, stepping cautiously into the infirmary.

"Get out," Mrs. Kubat said, her voice sharp and hard.

"No," Simon said. "You're going to get out Mrs. Kubat."

"Why you . . ." she gasped, her face was becoming red and there was a slight tension and trembling in her body.

"Please, Mrs. Kubat," Simon said. "Don't make me call Jayne."

"He wouldn't . . ."

"Aw, Jayne would," Kaylee said, stepping further in and walking towards Simon. She had a stemming mug in her hand that smelled more or less tomato-y. "An' he'd probably really like ta, truth be told."

"I was under the impression that this ship was at least somewhat civilized," Mrs. Kubat said, clearly setting up an insult.

"What gave ya that idea?" Kaylee asked with a decidedly uncivilized snort.

"Please," Simon, ever the bastion of civilization, said. "I want to help your daughter and I don't feel I can do that with you here."

"You will regret this," the woman said with a hushed fury.

"Evangeline won't," Simon said, following her to the door and closing it behind the woman in a gesture of finality. Of course, he knew he'd have to go out there, and soon. There was the matter of his dinner, not to mention Kaylee's, and since there had been fewer children than implied, he didn't need to sleep in the infirmary, so he'd have to go out if he wanted to go to bed. Come to think of it, he'd have to go out if he wanted to go to the bathroom. "That was a very foolish thing to do," he muttered to himself.

"It was brave," Kaylee asserted.

"What just happened?" asked the little girl, who in all practicality had been forgotten.

"You get ta have soup for dinner," Kaylee said, handing the girl the cup of steaming red broth. "If ya like I kin go up stairs 'gain an' fetch some crackers."

"Could you?" Evangeline asked with such gratefulness and excitement in her voice that Simon couldn't help but feel a little heartbroken. And he could tell from the small tremor of sadness Kaylee's voice, when she said "Sure, no problem at all," that the mechanic felt exactly the same way.

* * *

River was praying in the great temple. All around her the city was burning, she could taste the smoke. But here she was safe. Athena would protect her. True, Athena had been on the side of the Greeks, the devious, murderous, Greeks who had been hiding in that horse. Why had no one seen it, why had no one believed her? This was her fault, River knew. If she'd only found a way to love Apollo than this whole catastrophe would have been avoided, she would not have been cursed, people would have headed her many, many warnings.

Her hands trembled as she prayed, prayed as fervently as she ever had before. She knew her prayers were falling on deaf ears, but she had to pray, she had nothing left.

That's when he came in. She felt him first; there was a prickling feeling as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and a chill rushed over her limbs. She knew he was coming, what he would do, even before he flung open the doors to the most sacred place and his cruel laugh echoed off the pillars and ceiling of the temple, she knew. She kept praying. Her city may have been abandoned by the goddess Athena, but surely she would not be.

When his thick arms warped their way around her waist and pulled her from her position of supplication, she reached out and grabbed the only thing she could: the sacred image of Athena. As he dragged her, his blue hands bruising her soft flesh, his vulgar words overpowering her cries and pleas, she did not let go of the sacred image. Even as he bound her, tying the ropes as tightly as he could, reveling in the fallen weakness of the great prophetess of Troy, River held on to the image of Athena. She could not let go of the only hope she had, she could not let the evil go unseen by the Goddess of Wisdom. Maybe her cries had gone unheard but no one could remove a sacred image from a temple unnoticed. The goddess would see this, she would bring down her wrath and her vengeance on the blue handed Ajax and his death would be a horrible one indeed.

Through the pain of the night River tried to remember this, she tried to revel in it. But there was just so much pain.

* * *

The scream woke everyone up. It was the sound of pure terror, of unimaginable pain. It was terrifying and made those who heard it more inclined to run away than to run and help. Unless, of course, the hearer recognized the voice that produced that scream, as Simon did.

"River," he said very very softly, his blood turning cold. He jumped out of his bed and fumbled out of his room. He didn't notice the various Kubat's peeking their heads out of their quarters as he rushed to the infirmary. He didn't notice Inara and her worried expression as he ran past her, he didn't hear her say his name. All he could hear was River scream.

"What's that?" Evangeline asked when Simon stormed into the infirmary. She was sitting up on the bed, looking nearly frightened enough to scream herself.

"It's nothing," Simon said quickly, grabbing his med kit. "Go back to sleep."

"Doctor, don' lie ta the girl," Mal said. He had appeared in the doorway to the infirmary and was blocking Simon's way.

"Captain, please, you know . . ." Simon said quickly as he made his way to push past Mal.

"That Kaylee got hurt while tryin' ta fix up Nara's shuttle," Mal said pointedly before stepping aside. "An you gotta get up there."

"Right," Simon said, looking gratefully at Mal before running out of the infirmary.

"Is that Miss Kaylee screaming?" Evangeline asked obviously concerned.

"Ah, no," Mal said, taken a little aback by the hauntingly beautiful child. "No," he said with a little more confidence. "That'd be the ghost, screemin'. Kaylee probably got hurt 'cause she was startled and dropped somethin'."

"Captain Reynolds," the ever near-racking voice of Mrs. Kubat said. "Did you just tell my daughter that there is a ghost on this ship?"

"Yes I did," Mal said, turning and smiling at the woman as well as the troop of little boys behind her. "You wanna hear the story?"

"Yeah!" the boy who Mal'd seen tagging along after Jayne all day, Robby, said.

"Absolutely not," Mrs. Kubat said firmly. "We will not listen to horror stories and nonsense."

"Oh, this story is absolutely true," Mal said, giving her his most honest face. "Now I know stories a ghost and such are usually nothin' but, exaggerated tellin's a things never happened," he chuckled, "As ya kin hear, our story's true as kin be."

The screaming, which had been sporadic for the past few minutes, suddenly stopped. There was a moment of absolute eerie silence.

"Better ta hear it and know why the poor girls screemin' even after she died 'n all than just stew and wonder," Mal said softly, not quite braking the silence.

"Tell us the story," Evangeline pleaded in a whisper.

"Yeah," Albert or Thomas (Mal wasn't sure) added, his voice was also hushed.

"Please," Little Felix begged softly.

Mal looked at Mrs. Kubat, asking with his clear blue eyes to entertain her children. She didn't exactly give him permission, but, sighing in clear disgust, turned dramatically and headed back to her room, leaving the kids with the good Captain and whatever story he was going to tell.

"Well," Mal said, a little bit louder, letting a wave off shivers flow down his spine. "Guess that was as much a yes as anything else. Why don' you boys go make yerselves nice and comfy out there in the common room."

"I want to hear the story too!" Evangeline insisted.

"Don' worry, little Miss," Mal said, "I ain't planin' ta leave you out." He walked over to the girl and gently picked her up. She struck him as far too light, but he forced himself not to be concerned. She'd been sick for quite a while; it was only to be expected.

"Mal what's going on?" Inara asked, peeking through the infirmary door as Mal carried out the weak little girl.

"Nothin' ta fret over," Mal said, smiling pleasantly at the Companion. "I was just gonna tell these kids the story a the ghost what's makin' so much racket."

"Do you think that's wise?" Inara asked.

"I admit, tail kin get a bit suspenseful at places, but I'm sure it ain't nothin' a bunch a brave kids like these can't handle."

"What about Simon?" Inara asked.

"Aw, he's off takin' care a Kaylee."

"Kaylee?"
"Yeah, she was fixin' yer shuttle when the screemin' started. Dropped somethin' on her hand. Ain't got all the details myself, but I'm sure Simon'll see to it everythin's all right."

"Yes," Inara said, feeling no more comfortable, but allowing herself to sit down on the stairs next to the common room. "I'm sure he will."

To be continued . . .