Disclaimer: Characters belong to Joss Whedon and his peeps, not me.

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay. Thanks for reading and reviewing in the past, and I hope you continue to in the future;) As of this update, 181 days until "Serenity" arrives in theatres!!

Precious

by Kristen Elizabeth

In Serenity's infirmary, Simon finished wrapping a weave around a skinned knee and smiled at the boy who'd sustained the injury while racing up and down the cargo bay.

"Take better care next time," he told the child. "You only get two knees, after all."

The boy nodded and smiled shyly. "Xie-xie, Dr. Tam."

Simon froze momentarily. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the fact that the children knew his last name and his profession and his whereabouts and that he had a sister who was slightly wacky. If they talked to the wrong person and revealed even a couple of these facts, it would only be a matter of time before he and River were caught.

"You're welcome," he managed to reply as the boy slipped off the exam table and scampered towards the door, heedless of the injury that had him in tears earlier. He nearly ran into Kaylee as she came in.

"Whoa there, partner," she stilled the child with a hand to his bony shoulder. "Are we forgettin' how we got that busted knee?"

"Sorry, Miss Kaylee."

Serenity's mechanic winked at him. "Get on outta here. Careful-like!" Reducing his speed by, at most, a third, the boy ran off. Kaylee shot Simon a happy grin. "I have a feelin' you'll be seein' Jake again 'fore long."

"Jake." He frowned. "Oh, yes. The boy."

Kaylee approached him. "You didn't know his name, did ya?" Playing off Simon's guilty look, she wagged a finger at him. "Bad doctor."

"I've tended to so many little injuries in the past week." Simon sighed. "I never knew children were on such a mission to hurt themselves."

"They're all cooped up. Kids get crazy. When I was little, I 'bout drove my parents to an early grave on rainy days when I couldn't get outside." She thought for a moment. "One time, I re-routed our entire plumbin' system for maximum water flow. They wouldn't have minded, 'cept I kinda put some interestin' holes in walls meant for supportin'."

Simon laughed, picturing a tiny version of Kaylee knocking holes into support walls. "Perhaps River and I were aberrations. We enjoyed staying in and reading on sunny days."

A moment hung between them, amiable, but electrically charged. Finally, Simon cleared his throat. "Did you need something in here?"

Crestfallen, but determined not to show it, Kaylee was forced to shake her head. "Just came to tell you we're comin' up on Osiris. Been flyin' under the radar, but Capt'n still wants you and River playin' it low-key, 'specially once we land."

"Trust me, I intend to." His forehead pulled into a frown. "I'm not enough of a nyen ching-duh to question the captain anymore than I already have, but I have to confess, this entire mission of ours has kept me from sleeping well lately. For more than one reason."

Kaylee hesitated, reluctant to speak against Mal, but unwilling to lie. "I figure he's got somethin' up his sleeve. Ain't no one in the 'verse hates slavin' more than our Capt'n."

Simon's handsome face paled suddenly. "You don't…you don't imagine he'd come up with some sort of plot to take out whoever is waiting on this cargo…these children, by fooling them into believing he really is delivering them? Do you?"

"Now that ya mention it…it does sorta sound like a Mal-plan," she admitted.

"Half-baked with a high potential to fail miserably and end in pain and/or death." Simon swore sharply. "Perfect. Because what we really need is the possibility of drawing the Alliance's attention while we're deep in the Core."

Simply by putting her hand on his rolled-up sleeve, Kaylee soothed him. "It'll be okay, Simon. He ain't gonna put you or River in any danger." She thought for a moment. "On purpose."

"Forgive me if I feel less than comforted." But he did feel comfortable, with her so near that he could smell the berry scent of her hair wash. "I'm sorry. I'm not good company right now."

"You don't always gotta be good company. I'll still talk to ya, even if you're…"

Mal's voice cut her off as it boomed through the com system. "Kaylee. Need ya in the cargo bay."

She shot Simon an apologetic smile. "We'll talk later?" He nodded and she left, an extra bounce in her step.

He allowed himself one more curse word before he left the infirmary and headed back to the passenger quarters. He would need to get River ready for the next few days. And while he wasn't entirely sure how to prepare his brain-damaged, yet possibly psychic sister for their sudden return to Osiris, sedating her for the entire layover wasn't an unthinkable solution.

Wash was agitated, and not even his dinosaurs could calm him. For over a week, he'd been sleeping on the floor of the bunk he shared with Zoë and it was starting to wear on him.

She hadn't ordered him out of their bed, so much as she'd made it very clear through body language that he would not be welcome there. One of the first lessons he'd learned in his marriage was argue with his wife only when he absolutely knew he was in the right. And this time, he got the distinct feeling he wasn't.

Picking up the triceratops, Wash leaned back in his chair. He usually felt comforted by the canopy of stars that hung over him. But when he looked out the windows, searching for that calm, all he felt was overwhelming emptiness. Alone, he thought. I'm all alone.

"What does she want from me?" he asked the dinosaur. "Well, a baby, yeah. But why's it so damn important to her now? We'll have 'em sooner or later. Do you see this face?" He pointed at his cheek. "This face needs to be immortalized and carried on for generations."

The triceratops said nothing.

Wash set it back down between the brachiosaurus and the T-rex, and pushed his fingers through his hair, stopping to scratch his scalp. "'Sides." He snorted softly. "What kinda dad would I make, anyways?"

His arms dropped back down to his sides, but brushed against something distinctly flesh-like. Wash jumped out of his chair, spun around and confronted a little girl who had snuck up behind him. She was by herself, unaccompanied by either Kaylee or Inara. With one finger in her mouth and a guilty look spread on her face, she wasn't exactly what he'd expected.

"What are you doin' here?" he demanded, still trying to catch his breath from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

"I got lost," the girl whispered.

"You're not supposed to be up here, guai." She looked down at her bare feet and sniffed. Wash cursed himself under his breath. "Come on. I'll walk you back."

But the child was already lost to her tears. "I want my Ma-ma!"

He was at a loss. Zoë only cried her in sleep, and even that only happened once in a blue moon. Wash knew how to stop those tears. But using that method with a child was illegal and more importantly, repugnant and wrong. He wiped his hands on the front of his colorfully printed shirt and reached out to pat the little girl's shoulder.

"Mei guan xi," Wash said, not entirely sure if the words were comfort enough. But the girl at least looked up at him. "What's your name?"

She sniffed again; her nose was runny. Where was Kaylee when you needed her? Runny noses were definitely her department. "Merian."

"I'm Wash, Merian." He held out his hand. In a display of youthful carelessness, she ran her own hand across her nose before putting it in his. He tried not to recoil. Worse fluids came out of his body on a daily basis. The girl's hand was cold and so frail he was almost afraid he might break it if he held on any longer. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," she echoed, stumbling over the words like one who didn't really understand them. She shivered just then, so intensely that her entire body shook.

Without thinking, Wash left her side and retrieved the extra blanket he kept on the bridge. He sat down in his chair and draped it around her skinny frame. "Better?" She nodded. A moment passed. "You know, I bet Miss Kaylee's lookin' for you by now."

"Cargo bay's cold," Merian said. "Can I stay here?"

Wash paled slightly. He could feel invisible threads already beginning to connect him to the little girl. He couldn't encourage them. He couldn't let her get dependent on him. It only led to inevitable heartache. Maybe she wouldn't understand it as such when he ended up letting her down, but it would be there. Another person he'd let down.

But something happened when he looked at Merian as she stared up at him, silently pleading for a bit of human affection. Maybe it was her eyes; they were so light against her mocha-colored skin. So much like what he imagined a child of his might look like, with Zoë as its mother.

Still, he wished he could have stopped himself from picking the girl up and setting her on his knee.

"So, Merian. You ever heard of a dinosaur?"

Twenty minutes later, he was so caught up in acting out an epic battle between the T-rex and the stegosaurus that he didn't even notice when his wife stepped into the room. Wash kept up the fight, encouraged by Merian's giggles.

Zoë watched for a few moments before she left on silent feet. It was far too easy, and it hurt her heart far more than she'd anticipated, to imagine that the child was their own daughter.

"Mal, the kids gotta go."

Serenity's captain made the mistake of taking a sip of coffee at the same time he looked over at the doorway into the kitchen. Jayne stood there, chest puffed up in righteous fury, probably from the fact that his hair…what there was of it…had several tiny pink bows in it.

Coffee sprayed across the table.

"Ain't funny," Jayne growled. "Man outta be able to close his eyes for more than three seconds, and not hafta worry 'bout wakin' up looking like a gorram doll!"

Mal coughed and cleared his throat. "And here I thought you got all pretty just for me."

"I'll sic Vera on you, Mal. Swear to god I will." He stomped over to the table, pulling the bows out with as much force as possible. Every now and then, he'd wince in pain. "We better be landin' and sellin' 'em off soon."

All traces of amusement died on the captain's face. "We're not sellin' anyone."

"Well, we're gettin' paid, ain't we?"

His eyes narrowed. "You'll get your coin, Jayne."

"Better be," he grumbled. "For all my pain and sufferin'." A moment passed. "Bet I know who gave 'em all this frippery. Inara." Jayne scowled. "She ain't hardly left the cargo bay since they got here. Never knew a whore to be so mother-like."

Mal took a sip of coffee, staring into space over the metal rim of the cup. "Inara doesn't wear pink. I'd look more towards the engine room, if you're lookin' to blame someone."

"Tadame," Jayne cursed. "I can't yell at Kaylee. Ain't no way. She knows that, too."

Setting aside his now-cold drink, Mal stood up. "How 'bout next time you're feelin' sleepy, you make it to your bunk, 'stead of passin' out in Kaylee's hammock? She might not feel the need to have you decorated." He started for the door. "Oh, and if I ever hear you call Inara a whore again…"

He didn't finish his threat. He didn't need to.

Inara had been brushing hair for nearly an hour. Every little girl wanted her hair brushed by the lovely woman one older child had described as a "fairy princess."

Princess, Inara thought as she pulled her expensive comb through a head of brown curls, thinned by lack of proper nutrition. Hardly.

"There you go," she told the child sitting in front of her.

"Xie-xie, Miss Inara."

With some effort, as her legs had fallen asleep during the long time she had been sitting on her knees, Inara stood. Her silk brocade skirt was hopelessly wrinkled, but the smiles on the girls' faces as they admired themselves in her jade hand mirror made the garment a worthwhile casualty.

Pins and needles pounded her feet, but she still tried to take a step forward, only to find that they weren't going to support her. She stumbled and fell into a pair of strong arms.

"Careful," Mal said. His heart beat against her ear and she quickly pulled back. Pulled away from his intoxicating warmth. "Wouldn't want to break somethin'."

She raised her chin to look him in the eye. She was always surprised how many colors she could see there, all depending on what sort of mood he was in. "I only tripped."

"And if I hadn't been here, you would've landed smack on that valuable face you got. But maybe you got insurance on that. Through the Guild?" He smirked. "'Case some client gets a bit too rowdy?"

Inara jerked out of his grip. "Not in front of the children, Mal," she hissed.

"True, true. Ain't no cause for 'em to be knowin' such sordid stuff."

"There's nothing sordid about my profession." She lowered her voice. "And it's certainly a much better life than what you're sending them into."

"Ain't gonna have this talk again."

She caught his arm before he could walk away, and dragged him a few yards away. "You're many things, but you are not a slaver, nor party to one. Please tell me why we haven't even considered finding a legitimate orphanage for these children? Please, Mal. Please."

He looked as though he wanted to say something, but after a moment had passed and he hadn't uttered a word, Inara released him. "I was holding out hope that you had some ill-conceived mission in mind, like you so often do. I suppose I can stop hoping now."

This time, Mal caught her before she could go. "Would you still leave if there was nothin' left to admire in me? If there weren't no more strength to get 'ttached to…would you stay?"

Wash's voice boomed through the intercom. "Capt'n, we're in com distance of Osiris. Ready to ask for dockin' clearance on your say-so."

Mal walked backwards, away from Inara, until he reached the entrance to the cargo bay. He pressed a button and spoke, still staring at the Companion. "Clear us, Wash." Pressing another button, he addressed the entire ship. "Ladies, gentlemen and Jayne…welcome to Osiris."

To Be Continued