The knock on Camille's door woke her from her uneasy sleep. Raising her head off her pillow, she called, "Come in."

Simon opened the door and stuck his head in. "Inara and Mal both said you had a headache."

"Yeah." She lowered her head again, briefly closing her eyes.

"Did it come on suddenly?" he asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"No," Camille sighed. "Inara kicked me in the chin and then jammed her elbow into my neck."

There was a beat of silence, and then Simon said, "Ah, yes, I should have known. She does that a lot, beats up on the rest of us. It's very hard to stop her. I guess someone should have warned you."

She opened her eyes, smiling at him. "It's a long story."

"Mmm, I guess." He took a flashlight out of his red bag and shined it in her eyes. "Your pupils are responding normally. You know where you are?"

"Serenity," she said, striving not to roll her eyes. He was just doing his job, after all.

"And you know who you are?" A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Not most of the time."

This time the smile was full fledged. Simon put the flashlight away as he said, "Well, no concussion. That's something to be grateful for. Where's the pain centered?"

"Back of my neck and up through my temples."

"Roll over."

She did as he asked. Her heart was pounding as Simon's hands felt the muscles in her neck, checking for damage, feeling the bones. His fingers climbed up her vertebrate until they reached the base of her skull and pushed against the monitor.

"Huh," he said, fingers stilling.

Camille bit her bottom lip, feeling queasy. Feigning innocence, she asked, "What?"

"You seem to have something here." He felt it carefully, trying to dislodge.

"Um, yeah. It's, uh... Some sort of frontier medicine or something. Got hurt real bad when I was a kid, and that's how the fixed me up."

His fingers gently moved around the edges of the monitor, feeling the size and shape of it. "How were you hurt?"

"Kicked in the head by a cow. Back of my skull. Doctor stuck a metal screw or somethin' in there."

"It doesn't feel like a screw."

"Maybe it's a clamp. I don't rightly know." She moved away from him and rolled back onto her back. "That hurts," Camille said, allowing her voice to go breathlessly pouty.

Simon noticed the change immediately and sat back. His eyes narrowed as he studied her, and his hands were pressed lightly against his thighs. "Sorry," he said slowly. "I didn't realize. Inara hit it, didn't she?"

"Yes." Her heart was pounding as she tried to figure out what to do, how to distract Simon from the monitor. In less time than it took for her to blink, she had four fully fleshed out plans, and only two had to do with sex.

Turns out, though, she didn't need any of them. Simon's face became a mask of sympathy, and he said, "I must have hurt."

"It did. But it'll be fine."

"If it bothers you, you'll tell me?"

No. "Of course, Doctor."

He smiled and turned back to his bag. "I want to check your stitches, if you don't mind. And then I'll try to do something for your headache. Lie down."

Camille did as he asked, shifting as he pulled her shirt up. Her heart rate was still up, which tended to make her skin feel over-sensitive, so when he touched her, it seemed as if she could feel the ridges of his fingerprints.

Simon was careful and methodical as he examined the stitches, but cool and utterly professional. It was almost too bad; he was so pretty. And it'd been a long time since Camille had slept with anyone. It was torture, almost, being trapped on a ship full of such beautiful people. And, of course, the irony was, the only person who might give in and sleep with her was the one person she didn't want to get too near. Jayne was just so loud and she knew he'd just get louder during sex. Being pummeled with loud, physic grunts wasn't her idea of a good time.

Sex with Inara would mean she could sink into that cool, sereneness and just lose herself. Sex with Simon would be like poetry. Sex with Mal...

Mal was on the bridge, talking with Wash. His mind, though, was on her. About how soft her skin was, how pretty her eyes, and how absolutely terrifying she was. He didn't do things like this, not ever. He wasn't one to give into attraction to anyone, it just wasn't his way. His life was too complicated, what with trying to keep ahead of the Alliance, two fugitives on board, his feelings for Inara that, despite them coming to an understanding, were still there. Mal had his ship, his life, and his own problems. He didn't need any other complications.

Besides, she was obviously too young. She didn't need an old man like him, especially one with all his baggage. Most of the time, he was still in Serenity Valley, free only at the end of the day when he knew he was still flying. She didn't need someone like that.

Except, underneath all that strength and intelligence there was a hint of something. Something fragile and damaged, just like him. Something...

"Camille?"

Camille inhaled sharply as Simon's voice pulled her from Mal's mind. Good thing, too, since he'd seemed to start being aware of her presence. Mal wasn't psychic, but he was pretty sensitive. He'd already pulled her into his dream once, and now he'd almost caught her in his mind again. She had to be more careful.

"You all right?"

"Yeah. I just drifted for a moment. How am I?"

He smiled and pulled her shirt down. "Fine. You're healing very well, actually; I'll be able to remove the stitches in a few days."

"Good. I'm getting tired of feeling like a quilt."

"Well, if you stick around with this crew, you might have to get used to it. Sometimes it seems like I have to sew someone up every time we touch down on a planet." He reached into his bag and pulled out a small jar.

"They're that bad?"

Simon nodded. "The captain especially seems to have a special talent for getting shot or stabbed or cut somehow. Once, he even lost his ear."

Her eyebrows hit her hairline. "Lost his ear?"

"I got it back on, of course. After all, it was just another day on the good ship Serenity."

Camille laughed.

Smiling at her, Simon unscrewed the lid. "I'm not exaggerating. Sometimes I think they purposefully walk into the path of bullets just to prove their masculinity or something."

"Well, Jayne might feel some have missed he's a man, what with the name and all. What's that?"

"Peppermint oil. I went on the Coretex earlier to see what sort of advice I could find for pain management without drugs. I know that this isn't a tension headache or anything, but I thought we could try it anyway. Might take your mind of the pain, at least." He dabbed his finger in the oil, then rubbed it on her temples and under her chin.

Camille inhaled deeply; it smelled wonderful, although it had the effect of making her hungry, too. As a child, she'd always loved sucking on peppermint balls and candy canes; she would save her candy canes, in fact, in her sock drawer, stockpiling them so she could eat them all year round.

"Any affect?"

"Not really." She closed her eyes, inhaling again. "Brings back memories, though."

"Scent is one of the most memorable senses," Simon agreed. "Reminds me of Christmas back home. River and I used to get up early to have more time to play with our new toys."

"You didn't look for them early?"

"River did. Always found them, too. I wanted to put off knowing as long as possible, but not River. She never understood the meaning of patience."

"Yeah." She wasn't agreeing to River having no patience, and Simon seemed to understand that.

He smiled at her with a sense of melancholy longing for what was lost. Then he shifted and said, "I, um. While I researching, I came across a mention of pressure points and how they can be useful in easing pain."

"Uh-huh?"

"Mostly is seems like a massage, but I'm supposed to concentrate on specific parts."

"Sounds dirty," Camille said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"You're kind of a brat, you know that?" Simon told her.

This time, she batted her eyelashes.

"God," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "You're just like..." He stopped abruptly, a wave of melancholy washing over his face.

River. She still was a brat, actually, but she probably wasn't stable enough most of the time to display it. It was in her mind, though, and Camille loved it about her.

"Turn around and back up a little bit. I'm going to put my legs around you, is that all right?"

"Just don't get fresh."

He gave a kind of snorting laugh and moved closer to her. Gently, he placed his thumbs at the base of her skull, just on either side of her monitor.

"Okay, tilt your head back," he said softly.

She complied, closing her eyes as she did. It wasn't taking the pain away, exactly, but it still felt good. His hands held her in a gentle grip and his thumbs moved slowly but firmly, sending tingles down her spine.

"Breathe deeply," Simon instructed. "In through your nose for the count of four, out through your mouth for six."

"All right." She did as he asked, feeling the muscles in her shoulders slowly unknot. The longer they stayed that way, the more comfortable and relaxed she became. The headache began to fade slowly, although she could still feel where Inara had hit her. But the rest melted away until she was leaning limply against Simon.

Utterly relaxed, her mind once again began to expand, freed of the barriers that she used normally.

... why she reminds me of River, Simon was thinking. She's nothing like her. Smart, not brilliant. Graceful, but she doesn't float like River does. Damaged, but not ... nearly broken. And yet, there's something... something in her eyes, in that sad, melancholy smile that's just like my sister. And of course Mal has to keep watching her like that. Like he used to watch me when he thought I wasn't looking. Not that I mind, exactly, not really, except I know he won't take a chance with her either. And he needs to take a chance on someone. If he doesn't, I'll stay trapped, wanting him and...

She didn't think. She just turned suddenly in his arms and kissed him.

Simon let out a startled yelp and pushed her away.

"Simon," Camille said breathlessly, but hecut her of.

"Didn't you just kiss Mal?"

Camille blinked. "How do you know that?"

"It's a small ship, Camille."

"Apparently."

Simon shrugged. "River saw you and told Kaylee. Kaylee thinks it's the best thing in the world and immediately ran to gush about it to the captain who wasn't too happy about it."

She winced and pulled her legs into her body. "He's mad?"

He rolled his eyes, and then stopped, looking at her penetratingly. Some of his indignation seemed to fade away. "Well," he said. "Not at you. And maybe angry isn't the right word. He's embarrassed. Mal's a very private man, you see, and being attracted to you and having all of us know is embarrassing to him."

"Don't seem like the type to let a little thing like lust get to him," Camille said, resting her chin on her knees.

"Well." Simon drew out the word like he wasn't sure if he should say anything or not. Then he sighed. "I don't think it's just simple lust. Mal's certainly someone who appreciates attractive people He's certainly had something going on with Inara I first came on, although they never actually did anything. And I'm fairly sure that he's only slept with one person since I've been on board. He has... Not standards, but..."

"Principles."

"Yes, exactly. He doesn't articulate them, exactly, other than to say he won't get involved with someone on his crew. Actually, he's very against intercrew relationships," Simon said dryly.

"Which is obvious by the fact everyone is single, of course." She lifted her head. "Are you in love with him?"

He hesitated. "Why do you ask?"

"It just seems like, maybe... I saw you this morning. You were sharing the same coffee mug; that's kind of intimate."

"Well, we've danced around it. Have been dancing around it for about a year now. The attraction was always there, even before Inara left, but after..." He shrugged. "I started pushing and for awhile, he seemed like he was weakening. But, in the end, he told me it wasn't a good idea, we weren't right for each other, and couldn't be what the other needed."

"What did you need him to be?"

He shrugged. "Mal. There, when he was available." A smile crossed his face. "Willing."

"And what did he need you to be?"

"Uncomplicated."

Camille laughed. "Then I'm no threat. I'm nothing if extremely complicated. More than most."

"Have you met my sister?"

"True." She lifted her head. "Why did you give up on Mal? I mean, if you loved him, surely there was something you could do."

"Sometimes the best thing to do is admit that, no matter how you feel about someone, it won't work out. I care for him deeply, but I can't ask him to be what he is not. And he's not willing to be with me, so I have to respect that."

Camille gazed at him, letting his words sink. They hit uncomfortably close to home, resonating inside her and, after a moment, to her horror, she started to cry.

Simon looked shocked. "Camille," he said helplessly. He tentatively put his hand on her shoulder and rubbed. "I'm sorry, I... What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she said shakily, rubbing her eyes. "I just..." She stopped, trembling hard as another wave of sobs wracked through her.

"Don't cry, please. Camille..."

The door opened and River entered, face like a storm cloud. "You made her cry!" she said accusingly. She sat on the bed next to her and drew Camille into an embrace.

"I didn't mean to," Simon protested. "We were just talking."

"Hey, what's going... Camille!" Kaylee exclaimed. She rushed into the room and climbed next to Camille and River. "Honey, what's the matter?"

"Simon made her cry," River told her.

"Ah, sweetie, don't mind Simon. He's gotta good heart and all, but sometimes the dumbest things come out of his mouth," Kaylee said, stroking Camille's hair. "He don't mean nothin' by it."

"I didn't say anything wrong!"

"He didn't." Camille wiped her eyes and smiled at Kaylee. "It's really not his fault. We was just talkin'."

"You sure he didn't say nothin' that was supposed to sound charmin' but ended up being hurtful?" Kaylee shot Simon a squinch-nosed look and sweet smile.

"I'm sure," Camille assured her. She took Kaylee's hand and squeezed, leaning against River for comfort. "Sorry 'bout all this, Simon. Didn't mean to turn into a baby on you."

Simon just shrugged and shook his head. "It's all right, Camille. I will leave you three alone now, though. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

"I will."

He left, closing the door.

"What did he say?" River asked. She was rubbing Camille's arm, and her mind was open and weaving in and out of Camille's, calming her.

Camille closed her eyes. "It doesn't matter. He didn't mean..." She sighed and opened her eyes. "Have you ever been in love with someone who didn't love you back?"

"I thought I did," Kaylee replied. "When Simon first came on, I thought he was the prettiest thing I ever laid eyes on." She smiled, and it lit up her face. "He was such a gentleman, and so ... just shiny. But no matter what I did, he never seemed to notice me. Or, worse, he did, only he wouldn't act on it. Or he'd say the dumbest, most hurtful things. Sometimes, I felt like I'd just die."

"Did you ever get him?"

She laughed. "For a little bit. And then I realized that he wasn't the one I wanted." Kaylee's smile was full of love as she took River's hand and kissed it. "Of course, River might be better able to ask about bein' in love with someone who doesn't notice. Or, actually, I just didn't notice my own feelings 'till she showed me."

River rose and bent over Camille so she could kiss Kaylee. "Never worried. Always knew you were mine."

Camille sighed again and crawled out of River's lap. "I had mine," she said, pulling a pillow to her chest. "I had him and I was so happy. I thought he was happy, too. But then, one day, he just ended it. No explanation at all. I still don't know why. There must be somethin' wrong with me, but I don't know what. He never said, so every time I look in the mirror or say something or, God, even eat, I think to myself, 'Is this what drove him away? Is this what disgusted him?'"

"Ah, there's nothin digustin' about you, Camille," Kaylee protested. "I'm sure that he just ... realized he didn't deserve you. Or somethin'."

"But I was happy with him."

Kaylee's frown deepened. "Well. Sometimes I guess things just aren't right. I mean, I know you love him, but it's a big 'verse. The right person's out there."

"I want the one I had," she said.

River shook her head. "He drew you away from who you really were. He knew you needed someone to let you be who you are, and it wasn't him." River met Camille's eyes. "Divided. He divided you, even though he tried to make you whole. Camille is just another mask."

"No."

"Yes. Kathleen isn't dead."

"Who is Kathleen?" Kaylee asked, sounding exasperated.

River didn't answer, but continued looking pointedly at Camille.

Holding River's eyes, Camille simply said, "It don't matter who Kathleen was. She ain't no more." Then, she climbed off her bed and said, "I'm going to see if there's anythin' to eat. Seems like it's about mealtime anyway." Turning quickly, she left before River could say another word.