"This is your room," River said, sliding the door opened.

Camille stepped in and looked around. It was small and bare, but had an actual bed. She didn't always get one of those, so despite the plainness of the room, it seemed almost luxurious. Plus, it was private. She could closed the door and be alone when she wanted. In her travels, she hadn't always gotten that, either. This trip was looking up.

"It's nice," she said, crossing to the bed. "Thanks."

River smiled and followed her into the room. "It's not nice. But it's home." She ran her hand over the wall and cocked her head. "It took awhile to get used to her. To anything. But I like it here. More than Simon, I think." She looked back at Camille. "Simon's next door. My room is across the corridor."

Hmm. "Your room, or your and Kaylee's room?"

"My room."

"You don't sleep in the same room?" Camille asked, surprised. People like them slept with their significant others. Or anyone available. As often as possible.

"Sometimes. Mostly, we do, either hers or mine. But I need space to be alone sometimes." Her smile was tired as she pressed the heel of her hand into her forehead. "It's hard to be alone here."

No kidding. Seven people in close quarters with psychic powers you couldn't control. Yeah, space would definitely be a problem.

"How long have you and Kaylee been together?" Camille asked, setting her rucksack on the bed. She opened it and started pulling out clothes.

"Four months, one week, six days, twenty hours, and fourteen minutes." River sat on the bed and neatly folded the clothes that Camille had tossed in a heap.

She nodded. "She's worried, you know. About me. She senses something between us, and is assuming it's attraction."

"Yes, I know." River frowned and smoothed her hands over a shirt. "She doesn't need to worry."

"And I'll make sure not to give her anything to worry about." She pulled the book out of her bag and held it between her hands.

"You could tell her."

"About me? No. No, I'd rather not."

"Why?

Camille sighed and pushed her bangs off her forehead. "I'd rather not. Then I'd have to explain who I am and what I was doing on Persephone."

River's eyes flicked to Camille's stomach, and she reached out, placing her hand over the wound. "They don't know."

The Alliance, not the crew. "They better not. The poison was supposed to be untraceable. And I didn't beat him too badly. Mostly I blocked what he threw." Then, when River grinned, Camille said, "Hey. I did the best I could under the circumstances. But who goes to see a Companion with a knife, and ten leaves after only half an hour?"

"He had a meeting. Unexpected," River said. "Got pulled away from Inara before they were done." She wrinkled her nose. "Before they got started. Mal was pleased when he heard that. She usually doesn't talk about her clients, but she heard that he died a few hours after we left. It bothered her."

"Well, yeah, I can see that." She rubbed her nose. "Mal was pleased?"

River shrugged, her shoulders rising and falling gracefully. "They attract and repel and dance around each other constantly. They love and hate and don't understand. And it can never be because..."

"She's chosen her path," Camille finished, eyes half closed. "Forever apart, always an observer, never one of the crowd, she.." Gasping, she forced herself out of Inara's mind. "You tricked me," she accused.

"No. I was just talking. You're the one who sought her out." Her head cocked. "You're not like me."

"No." She twister her fingers in her lap. "I've got... ways of dealing with it."

"That's not what I meant."

Camille exhaled slowly. "No. It's not. There were two sets of us. The geniuses, the absolute cream of the crop in one place. The rest of us in another. All bright, all talented, all the best of the best. Only... you were trained for one thing. Us for another."

"I'm more powerful? My abilities?"

"That's what I think." Camille leaned forward and put her hand on River's knee. "How'd you get out?"

"Simon. You?"

"It's a long story." She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. "His name is Garrison Pike. He's rich. Powerful. Was a spy during the war for the Independents and managed to turn that into a profit, too. When the war was over, he moved to a secluded moon, way out of the way. But he kept his to the ground and fingers in a lot of projects. He started hearing rumors about kids being taken and experimented on. Being hurt. He found out more information, greased a lot of palms, and then started liberating us. I guess the first couple died. Where I was, they really messed us up. But, the more he worked and the more doctors he got, the better he was able to rehabilitate us. And then he train us so our talents, hard gotten though they are, could be put to use."

"How long have you been out?"

"Three years, eleven months, thirteen days, two hours, eighteen minutes, twenty-seven seconds. And it took almost two years until I was the only one in my head. Before I stopped waking up screaming from the voices and the visions." She shuddered, remembering those days, remembering what it felt like to constantly have other people in her head without being able to block them out.

"What did you do? Before? To help?"

"Sex. Seriously, it was the only thing helped. And, of course, the scientists who did this to us knew that, right?" She smiled at River, only to find River looking at her with a vaguely puzzled look on her face.

Huh. Everyone else liked them had always agreed on that part. Maybe at the Academy, they didn't...

No. Because Prophet had been at least as sexually insatiable as the rest of them. Maybe more. Camille should know. She'd been the main one involved in taking care of him. Not that it'd been a chore or anything.

If River didn't have any idea what it felt like not to need someone like that, maybe... maybe she still had the androgen inhibitor in her.

What as she doing with Kaylee, then?

Speak of the devil.

"Hey!" Kaylee said, looking bright-eyed and sunny as she stuck her head inside Camille's room. "Why, you're looking right flush this mornin', Miss Camille. Not waxy and sick like you were. Doc musta fixed you up real good."

Camille returned Kaylee's smile, unable to resist the unbridled joy the other woman exuded. "That he did," she answered, naturally slipping into the country accent she'd adopted for the role she was playing. "I'm feelin' much better than I were yesterday."

Kaylee entered and sat on the bed next to River. "I'm glad. You gave us a real scare. How could someone do that to you? It just ain't right."

"There's a lot that ain't right with the 'verse, Kaylee. Roger was just one of those things." Roger. She had to remember that name.

"No, I don't believe that. I mean, yeah, things ain't perfect, but I think there's more good than bad in it."

Had she met her girlfriend? If anything, River was a prime example of how evil was predominate. But Camille couldn't say that; she was so used to hiding what she was, that she couldn't even reveal herself to people who already knew about what the Alliance had done. It didn't make sense, but then, life seldom did.

"You have a nice view on life," Camille said. She closed her rucksack and dropped it onto the floor.

Kaylee glanced down at the clothes River had started folding again. "Oh, wow. Camille, these are pretty!" She picked up a dark purple shirt and held it in front of her. "You sure got nice clothes."

"Yeah, well, Roger always did like to see me lookin' fine," she replied. "He weren't never stingy in that department."

She frowned thoughtfully. "Yeah, but, what would you druther have? Someone who treats you nice or someone who just dresses you nice?"

"Like a doll," River said distractedly. She pulled her hair off her neck a moment before letting it cascade around her shoulders again. "Look pretty, look innocent, look fragile, like a doll made of glass who sits on a chair. Underneath, though, there's danger and courage. Strength. And..." She trailed off, head inclining, eyes lost and distant. "Kathleen."

Hell.

"Who's Kathleen?" Kaylee asked. She looked at Camille expectantly. Obviously River did this a lot, although that was no surprise. And Kaylee knew that when things stopped making sense, it must have something to do with the newest person in the room.

Quickly, she tried to decide what to say. Should she deny having any knowledge about a Kathleen, put it off on River, or admit she knew the name.

If she denied it, River would rat her out. Better tell the truth at a slant

"Don't matter," Camille answered. "She's dead."

"No," River said, eyes sharpening. "She isn't. She's still there."

"Kathleen is dead," Camille said again, much sharper this time. God, she hated Academy kids. Prophet was just the same, needling her like this, digging where he didn't belong. Of course, he did it to be an asshole, showing off his abilities and trying to get a rise out of her. River was just out of control.

"Who's dead?" Mal asked from the door.

"No one," answered Camille.

"Someone named Kathleen," Kaylee said at the same time. "But I think it's somethin' best left alone."

Camille smiled gratefully at Kaylee. She wanted the subject closed and done for, gorramit. This was not something she was going to talk about with strangers.

But River was lost in her own mind, apparently, because she looked at Mal and said, "He'd like Kathleen." Then she frowned and said, "Met Kathleen already."

"I don't recall meetin' a Kathleen, River. Who is this girl supposed to be?"

"It's really not important, Captain. Please just drop it." What the hell was River talking about, Camille wondered.

Then, River turned to her, a smile curving her lips and said, "Not just his dream."

Oh God, she really hoped that River didn't mean what Camille thought she did. Swallowing to hide her embarrassment, Camille glanced at Mal.

He was looking at River with a puzzled expression on his face. Then, he shook it off and said, "Well, all right, then, we'll just call the matter dropped. You look better, Miss."

"Call me Camille, Captain. And thank you."

"Just tellin' the truth. Anyway, we're about to start a game down in the cargo area. River, Kaylee? You up to it?"

"Sure thing," Kaylee said, rising from bed immediately. She folded Camille's shirt once again and took River's hand. "Come on, sweetie. Let's play."

River glanced at Camille, who gave a quick nod of her head. They could always talk later. Kaylee didn't seem jealous anymore, but she was still harboring doubts. Camille wanted to do whatever she could to put those to rest.

"All right. Are you going to watch, Camille?"

"Learn the rules you mean? As soon as the doctor gives me leave, I'll wanna play. I hate not havin' anything to do."

"Space travel can be awful boring," Mal agreed. "But you be sure to get Doc's leave first. He gets mighty snippy if you don't."

She grinned and rose. "Don't worry, I will." Camille made to follow River and Kaylee out of the room, but there was something in Mal's expression that stopped her. "Is somethin' wrong?"

He was looking intently at her face, a crease between his eyes. "No," he said slowly. "I just... I don't know. I have this funny feelin' suddenly."

"A funny feeling?"

"Yeah. Like... Like we was talkin' or something. Only, I can't remember when or about what. I almost feel like it's somthin' I made up."

Ah, damn. He was one of those who didn't remember his dreams, but didn't completely forget them, either. This dream was trying to break through that barrier. Really, if she'd had any idea Mal would sense her in his head last night, she never would have gone dream walking. "Well, unless you're thinking about before the doctor stitched me up, you're either mistaken or I can't remember either. Was it important?"

"Naw." He shook his head. "Don't think so. Shouldn't have even brought it up." Mal cocked his head out the door, then exited.

No, Camille thought, it was a good thing he'd brought it up. She'd enjoyed his dream a little too much last night. So much, in fact, that she might have been tempted to go in again to see what would happen. But not now. Now she knew the dangers. There was no way she was going to get caught by Captain Reynolds, either as a survivor of Alliance experiments or... or as anything else.

"Camille, this is everyone," Mal said when they got to he cargo hold. "Everyone, Camille."

"Hey, y'all," she said with a smile.

"Glad to see you up," Wash said, holding his hand out to shake. This was the guy with the dinosaurs, apparently. He was a good guy, sweet, friendly; when Camille touched his hand, she got nothing but good will and some light appreciation for her looks. Sweet, and utterly devoted to his wife.

And what a wife. Tall, beautiful, tough. Everything Camille had always wanted in a woman. She wondered if this pair wanted a third, then dismissed the thought. Too complicated, and besides, they seemed complete enough on his own.

Book was a bit of a mystery, but harmless enough. He was keeping a lot hidden about his past, she could tell, but was genuinely committed to his calling and the crew.

"And this is Jayne," Mal said, clapping the big man on the back.

"Hi."

Jayne leered at her and took her hand. "Hello, sweet stuff."

A torrent of loudly lustful thoughts crashed into her, so strong that she literally had to step back from him. "Lao tian ye!" Her hands flew to her forehead and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"You get used to him," River said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Camille leaned into the touch, allowing River's mind to merge with her own, blanketing Jayne's noise. "Doesn't he have a volume switch?"

"No," she laughed. "Only one track, though."

"Yeah, but what a track," she said dryly. She dropped her hands and opened her eyes again.

"Are you all right, Camille?" Simon asked. He walked beside her and took her by the wrist, taking her pulse

"I'm fine. I've a bit... got a headache," she corrected quickly. Gorram, this man and his loud thoughts actually made her break character. She couldn't remember the last time that happened.

"Maybe you should lie down," Simon said, not noticing her gaffe.

"Um, no. I feel better up and about. I think I'll go back up so y'all can start your game."

Jayne nodded and ran her eyes over her. "Yeah, you do that. Be sure to watch me close. You ain't never seen the kinda moves I got out here."

"Yeah, I bet." She turned, rolling her eyes as she did. Off to one side, she saw Mal stifle a laugh and felt pleased at amusing him.

Simon dropped her wrist and nodded. "If you start feeling worse, just tell me. You were badly injured and need your rest."

"I will, Doc. Thanks." She touched his arm, schooling her expression into one of gratitude, then climbed the stairs back to the upper deck.

There weren't any rules to the game as far as Camille could see. There were teams and a ball and a hoop. And the teams got the ball into the hoop any way they possibly could. They had fun doing it, too. There was a lot of laughing and shouting.

Camille leaned against the railing, studying the players. Mal and Zoe were good naturedly competitive; they played to win, but they played to have fun, too. Jayne wanted to win. Kaylee wanted to have fun. Simon didn't want to get his hands smashed by Jayne, who was doing his best to smash any part of Simon he could, and River...

River was probably the most competitive one out there. But that was no surprise. They were all like that, either by nature or nurture, Camille wasn't sure. Garrison had to declare all games off limits without a referee around. Too many games--from basketball to chess--ended in out and out brawls because of their nature.

And, from the looks of it, River was no different.

"Hello," a soft voice said from besides her.

Camille turned. "You must be Inara."

Inara smiled and nodded. "I am." She held out on graceful hand, which Camille took in hers. "It's good to meet you."

"Same here. You're so beautiful."

Her smile grew. "Thank you. You're quite lovely yourself." She touched Camille's cheek. "I hate to see bruises on a woman, though."

"There are some who don't." Camille still hadn't hold of Inara's hand, and her heart was beating quickly. It was part attraction, part challenge. She'd only ever known one person who'd seduced a Companion successfully, and he'd cheated. As far as Camille was concerned, using your powers to influence the outcome didn't count; he hadn't agreed. "I happened to find one of them."

"Sometimes we all make bad decisions." Inara turned her hand over in Camille's, so it wasn't a handshake anymore, but a handhold.

Camille could feel Mal's eyes on her, but didn't care. This gorgeous woman was flirting with her, and even if it was only that, Camille could work with it. There was something to be said about flirting and its fantasy-inducement potential. And Camille did have a private bunk. What with Mal's dream and Inara's gentle flirting, it was looking to be a good night for Camille.

"Well, some of us do at any rate," Camille said, running a finger over the back of Inara's hand. "And some of us do more than others. I happen to be one of those some."

"But that's in the past now. You're free now, and can move on." She touched Camille's face again. "If you want to talk... I have experience in the world. I might be able to help you."

"I might like being helped." Camille wet her lips and opened her mouth to suggest they talk some now when..

Tring. Tring. Tringtring triiiiiiiiig.

Gou shi.

She extracted her hand from Inara's and stepped back. "I'd like that. But later. Tonight, maybe? My head is aching."

Her monitor trilled again, vibrating hard enough to rattle her skull. Head aching, she pressed her hand into the nape of her neck, although that had never proven effective in the past.

"I understand," Inara said sympathetically. "Please, if you feel better tonight, stop by my shuttle."

"I will. Thank you." Then, as her monitor went off again, she turned and retreated to the safe haven of her room.

After closing the door, she dove into her rucksack again. At the bottom, hidden in a camouflaged compartment, was a small, leather bound computer, just big enough to fit into her hand. She opened it quickly and turned it on.

"What?" she shouted, ready to give Garrison a piece of her mind. Bad enough he wasn't fucking her, but now he was ruining other conquests as well? Screw that.

To her surprise, Prophet appeared on the monitor. "Well, well, bao bei, that's quite a temper you've got going there Something happen?"

"You probably ruined my best chances of getting laid, that's what happened," Camille said, even though she knew it was a lie. Inara wouldn't sleep with her, especially if she though Camille had just gotten out of an abusive relationship. "How'd you get on this line? It's Garrison's private line."

"Oh, please, Camille. I'm a genius, he's not. I hacked into his system, like those kids in that book we read. Remember, about the kids training for battle in space? They played all those games in that battle room?"

"Okay. So you saying your Bean?"

"I'm not the short one, beautiful."

Camille rolled her eyes.

"What happened, xin ai? There was a fuss earlier in the control room. Garrison left a lesson with me to take care of it. Apparently your monitor went to a level three? That's pretty sloppy."

"My job didn't go according to plan, and I ended up getting stabbed. I had a blood transfusion and I was unconscious right after. I got to level three almost before I woke up. No big."

Prophet shook his head. "Don't do it again.

"Yes, sir."

"Seriously. I was worried, Camille. So was Garrison."

"I don't want to talk about him."

"Big surprise," Prophet muttered under his breath. "Seriously, you need to get over it. He cut you off, big deal. It's not like he's that good in bed anyway."

"I said I don't want to talk about him," she said tersely. "Besides, I have something I want to ask you. When you were at the Academy, was there a girl named River?"

"Is that her real name?"

"Yeah."

"What does she go by now?" he asked, surprised.

Camille shrugged. "She's not like us. She still goes by River. Did you know her?"

Prophet frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know. Maybe. It's all kind of fuzzy."

That was a huge lie. Everyone who'd been liberated from the Alliance had perfect recollection of what had happened to them. Articulation could be a problem, but the longer Garrison and the rest of his staff worked with them, the better able they were able to talk about what had happened to them.

"Prophet..."

"Sorry, Camille. I honestly can't remember. Why?"

"She's on the ship I'm traveling on. And she's a lot like you. Academy, not where I was. Her brother got her out, and she's unstable. Powerful, too."

"Should I tell Garrison?"

"No, I will. I'll check in when I get to Dayton Colony and tell him then. Until then, I'll try to learn more." She sighed and lay back . "How are things at base?"

"Same as always. Classes, training, more classes, more training. I got to go out on a job about three months ago. Did well, too. He's talking about sending me into something more dangerous, maybe deep in the Core. Hey. Apropos of nothing, I'm thinking of bleaching my hair. Platinum blond. What do you think?"

"I think you're so pale that you'll end up looking like a wall with two blue eyes and bright pink cheeks. If you close your eyes and put your hands over your cheeks, you might be able to blend into a wall. Then you'll be a chameleon."

He laughed. "I think I'll leave that trick to you, bian se long. And I won't listen to you, either. I'd look fantastic with platinum hair."

"Then why did you even ask my advice?"

"So you'd sleep with me when you get back." He turned away from the monitor for a moment, then back. "I've got to go. I'll talk to you later, Camille. Take care."

"You too."

The screen when dark as the connection was cut. Camille closed the computer and put it back in the sealed compartment. She thought about returning to the cargo hold to watch the game, but before she could decide, sleep washed over her and took her away.