Author's Note: Well, well, I'm back. My goodness, these last few weeks have been hectic, what with school and papers and tests and writer's block, yadda yadda yadda. Anyway, I hope this is well worth the wait. My friend that's been reading the chapters before I post seems to think that it's worthy, so here it is: the next installment. Enjoy!

PS: If anyone knows how to separate different parts of the story, like time lapses and whatnot, in such a way that doesn't delete it when you upload the document (like asterisks and underscores between paragraphs) I would very much like to know how. I feel like my story has flow issues because of it.

Three years ago….

Thump. Bridget's heart raced and her eyes were fixed on the door. There was no way out. Thump. She and her parents sat hunkered down in their one room house. Thump. They were breaking the door down. Any second, they were almost in. Crack! The wooden door jam splintered and four feds barged in and pointed guns at the three of them. Bridget was paralyzed with fear.

"Joseph and Marion Li, you are under arrest," the one in front said. Bridget looked at her parents in horror. Both of their faces were dead serious, neither looked scared.

"We're not going anywhere," said Bridget's father as he stood up to face the feds. Her mother stood up next to her husband.

"Back down or we'll fire," said the fed.

"Killing us won't stop the Independence," said Bridget's father solemnly. In one swift movement, he grabbed a handgun out from its hiding place in the waist of his pants and shot two of the feds, including the one that had first spoken to them. Bridget watched them crumple to the floor dead. Not a second later, more shots rang out and both her parents fell. Bridget waited for them to make a sound or a move, but they were still as stone.

The two remaining feds looked down at Bridget, who was just sitting there trembling.

"Get up, girl," said one of them. All she could do was stare at them blankly. "Now." Bridget slowly got to her feet, her knees shaking tremendously. "Bridget Li?"

"Huh?" she stammered.

"You are no longer welcomed on Persephone. Should you return, you will be subject to arrest," he said, glaring at her.

"But-," she began to say.

"Do I make myself clear?" he practically shouted.

"Yessir," Bridget muttered, still stunned and very, very confused. She looked down at her parents, lying on the floor in their own blood. She could hardly fathom that they were gone. She stumbled around the room and grabbed her old patched up corduroy bag and began stuffing the few belongings that she had in it. Bridget had never felt this lost or stunned or confused in her whole life. She felt like crying and screaming and sitting down to die all at once.

"You are to come with us to be escorted off world," the fed told her. "Any attempts to resist or escape and we will fire." Bridget gave a very delayed nod.

The two feds marched her out of her home in the slums of Persephone and herded her into a shuttle that was parked right outside.

Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't comin' back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...

Episode 17

Mug Shot

Bridget's eyes snapped open. It was dark in her bunk, pitch black. She looked at the clock and saw that it was 2:00am. She'd only been asleep for an hour and already her slumber was being assaulted by the demons of her past. She wiped the beads of sweat and clinging hair from her forehead and sat up in bed. Her heart skipped a beat and her blood ran cold: there was someone standing right beside her bed. Bridget let out a shriek and flew out of bed in the opposite direction. She hit the wall and crumpled against it, breathing hard.

The light suddenly flipped on, illuminating the frame of River Tam. With a revolver. Bridget's eyes widened in fear and she gave a little gasp. River slowly pointed the weapon right between Bridget's eyes from across the room.

"Bang!" River said as she pulled the trigger. Bridget cried out again, throwing her arms over her head, and waited for the pain to come…but it never did. She opened her eyes slowly and found River right next to her, the gun still held firmly in her hand. She squatted down next to the terrified cook and let out a playful giggle. "You're it." She gave Bridget a quick kiss on the cheek before dropping the gun and walking out of the room as if nothing had happened.

For a moment, Bridget was frozen with fear. Finally, when she got back her nerve, she picked up the gun with shaking hands and popped open the cylinder. She dumped five long bullets into a trembling palm and felt her heart in her throat. River was crazy. Insane. Had there been a sixth bullet in the chamber, Bridget would probably be dead.

Taking the unloaded gun with her, Bridget ran upstairs to the crew bunks. She knocked on the heavy metal door of Jayne's quarters between the ladder rungs, but there was no answer. She grabbed one of the rungs and pushed on the door, which gave in and connected with the ladder below it. Bridget descended down into Jayne's bunk and flipped on the light.

"Jayne," Bridget said in a normal voice. The mercenary just groaned and rolled over. "Jayne!" she almost shouted.

"Wha- What're you doin', girl?" he demanded groggily.

"Oh, nothin', just nearly getting shot in my sleep," Bridget said sarcastically. She was on the verge of terrified tears.

"What?" he asked, looking up at her and squinting at the light.

"River snuck into my bunk with a loaded gun and nearly shot me," Bridget said her voice trembling. "Is this yours?"

"Hell no, that's Mal's," Jayne said, throwing the blanket off of himself and sitting up. She thrust the revolver at him along with the handful of bullets. He counted the bullets in his head and realized what had happened. "Damn, she really coulda killed you."

"She acted like it was a game," Bridget said shakily. "Like nothin' bad would come of playin' with a gun…s-she pulled the gorram trigger and everything…"

"I am sick of this wacky shit," Jayne growled. He hoisted himself outta bed and stormed past Bridget. He climbed up the ladder, his love interest at his heels. He stormed towards the stairwell that lead down to the passenger bunks. Bridget paused when she figured out where he was headed.

"Jayne, where're you going? Shouldn't we get Mal?" she asked, confused.

"Gotta settle this," Jayne muttered. Bridget winced and hurried off after him.

"Jayne, Mal's the Captain, he'll know what to do," she insisted.

"Hell, I ain't the Captain and I know what to do," he said loudly. He stormed directly into Simons room, flipped on the light and literally threw Simon out of bed.

"Jayne!" cried Bridget, horrified of the ensuing violence.

"What the hell are you doing!" yelled Simon.

"You keep your gorram crazy sister in her bunk at night!" Jayne shouted angrily.

"What are you talking about?" asked the very disoriented doctor.

"That sister of yours stole one of Mal's guns and sunk into Bridget's room just now. Nearly shot her," Jayne said.

"What?" Simon cried, looking very concerned.

"Yeah. So you better keep her locked up at night, or I ain't responsible for what I do to 'er!" Jayne growled, sticking a finger in Simon's face before storming out of the room. Bridget stood in the doorway, completely stunned.

"S-Simon-," she started to say. "Simon, I didn't mean for him to…I just got scared, he was the first person I though to tell, I didn't know he was gonna get violent…"

"Being quite literally thrown out of bed wasn't how I was expecting to wake up, but I'm alright," Simon said, picking himself up off the floor.

"I'm so sorry, I shoulda come got you first," Bridget said.

"I should be the one apologizing," Simon said. "I'm supposed to be keeping tabs on River, but sometimes…sometimes she's difficult to, you know…keep tabs on."

"I understand," Bridget said. "She just…she acted like it was a game. She must've known that there was no bullet in that chamber, or something…she just pointed it at me, said 'Bang' and then came over to me, laid it down by me and said 'You're it.' It was…disturbin', to say the least."

"Wow," Simon muttered. "I've been trying so hard to find some kind of drug to regulate her…destructive behavior, but we just haven't found it yet." Bridget nodded.

"It's just that I been shot enough for one week. That's all," she said.

"Completely understandable," Simon said.

"Maybe you wanna find her 'fore she decides to play tricks on someone else," Bridget said.

"Probably a good idea," Simon agreed, looking disturbed his own self.

"I'd come along, but I got a piece of my mind that's itchin' to be given away," she said. Bridget hurried upstairs and practically jumped down the ladder of Jayne's bunk. He'd turned the light back off and was already snoring.

"Jayne, I know you ain't asleep that fast," Bridget said angrily.

"Uhn….," he groaned. Bridget pursed her lips and flipped on the light. She seized his blanked and yanked it off of him.

"Get your gorram ass outta bed, you xiong meng de kuang ren!" she cried.

"What'n the 'verse do you think yer doin'?" Jayne growled, standing up and towering over Bridget's slight Asian frame.

"You can't just go knockin' our friends around!" Bridget said, staring at him sternly.

"Maybe you forgot that one of your 'friends' nearly killed you not ten minutes ago!" Jayne shouted in his defense.

"Well, it weren't Simon that done it, weren't no need to go'n chuck him outta bed!" Bridget said. "Just 'cause you got some issues with him don't mean you need to bash him all up."

"If you like him so much, why don't you go after him instead'a me?" Jayne shot back.

"'Cause he ain't my type Jayne, and I respect my friendship with Kaylee too much to do somethin' so stupid," Bridget said. "That's called bein' socially acceptable, maybe you should try it."

"Well, hell, Bridge, maybe you shouldn't come get me when things go wrong so's I won't go and try to defend you," Jayne said, throwing up his arms.

"I want you to defend me, but not like that," Bridget said, her voice dropping down to its normal volume. Frustration burned in her teary eyes. "Dammit, Jayne, if you just woulda gone and got Mal-"

"He wouldn't be pokin' his head in here wonderin' what all the damn fuss is about," Mal said angrily from above. "Mind informing what exactly the fuss is?"

"Simon's crazy-ass sister got hold of one of yer lame old guns and nearly shot Bridget tonight like it was some crazy-ass game," Jayne said as the Captain descended into Jayne's bunk, his brow furrowed. He was angry for two reasons: one, he was roused outta bed at two in the morning by yelling and two, River had gotten hold of a gun. Again.

"You got anything to add, Miss Bridget?" Mal asked.

"Only that I regret not comin' to you first. That way at least Simon wouldn't have been woke up so rudely," she said, staring at Jayne.

"You probably shoulda," Mal agreed. "But for now we got a serious situation on our hands. This is the third time that girl's got a hold of a gun, and I don't care to think about the consequences that could bring. So, Bridget, I want you to go back to your bunk…"

"No," Bridget said firmly.

"Sorry, what was that?" asked Mal.

"No, sir," she corrected herself.

"When did you start disobeyin', Miss Bridget?" asked Mal, thoroughly surprised.

"I'm sorry. Alls I meant was I don't wanna go back down there alone. Fact, I don't know if I much wanna sleep across the hall from her no more," Bridget said. "I mean, we don't even know where she is right now. Hell, she could come back…"

"Fine, here's what we'll do: just for tonight, you sleep in your own bed. Tomorrow you can move your stuff into the empty bunk down the way, the one next to Wash and Zoë's. Wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable in your own room."

"Thank you, sir," Bridget said gratefully.

"Jayne, why don't you keep Bridget company downstairs?" Mal suggested.

"Why don't she just stay here with me?" asked Jayne. Mal gave him a stern look. "Nothin' funny, Cap, but we're already here."

"It's fine with me," Bridget said. "I kinda just wanna stay away…"

"I got your word you'll stay put while we find her?" Mal asked seriously.

"Yessir," Bridget said.

"Alright. Just make sure you don't go noplace," Mal said before he climbed the ladder out of Jayne's bunk. There was a loud clunk as the door above was shut.

"Well, now we got that room we was talkin' about," Jayne said with a little grin.

"You know, there's somethin' about nearly dyin' that totally kills any kinda mood," Bridget said, plopping down on Jayne's bed.

"You mad at me or some such?" Jayne asked her.

"Not mad, just…frustrated," Bridget said. "I wish you'd listen to me when I talk to you."

"I do," Jayne said.

"No you don't," Bridget insisted. "You didn't listen when I said to get Mal. You were just lookin' for an excuse to take yer anger out on someone, and it ain't right."

"May not be right, but that's how I am," Jayne said gruffly, practically throwing himself down on his mattress, which squeaked loudly under his bulk.

"Doesn't have to be. It is possible to think everything through before you go and do the first thing that pops into your head," she said.

"No one's perfect, Bridge, can't hold that against me," he said to her. There was a moment's silence in which Bridget stared at the floor, her hands folded and her ankles crossed neatly. "It's kinda late," Jayne said. "And you look like you could use some sleep."

"I don't know if I'm gonna be able to sleep after all this," Bridget replied.

"Well, in any case, you can either take the floor or get under this blanket with me, 'cause I ain't givin' up the bed," Jayne said.

"Oh, how very gentlemanly of you," Bridget said, rolling her eyes.

"Weren't tryin' to be gentlemanly. I wouldn't mind you asleep next to me, but if you're not comfortable with that, feel free to spend a cold hard night on the floor," Jayne said, stretching out on the bed and rolling over.

"You are such a hun dan," Bridget muttered as she scooted up next to the mercenary. "Ain't no way I'm sleepin' on that dirty floor."

"That's what I thought you'd say," Jayne said with a smirk. He reached out and shut the light off before wrapping a very muscular arm around Bridget.

The next day, Bridget avoided all communications and contact with River. She was downright scared of her and only got three hours of semi-decent sleep on account of her actions.

"Bridge?" asked Wash slowly as the cook began to nod off during dinner. "Bridget, you're falling asleep in your soup."

"Hmm?" she asked, jerking awake. "Oh, lao tian ye…."

"You okay?" asked Zoë with an arched eyebrow.

"No," grumbled Bridget. "I'm runnin' on three hours of sleep today, and it don't make me feel too spry."

"She can't sleep because her heart races and her eyes twitch and she's afraid of the dark," River said loudly all of a sudden, causing the whole room to go quiet. "Afraid a monster will come out of her closet and eat her up in the night, even though her mama told her monsters don't exist."

"River…," Simon said, trying to soothe his sister. Bridget suddenly felt her skin prickle with goosebumps.

"Pointed teeth and pointed nails and scales for skin…," River babbled, becoming more upset. "All hiding underneath a porcelain doll exterior, nothing but clay and paint keeping it in…but she can see it breaking and cracking when she closes her eyes to sleep, the backs of her eyelids…she sees it and she hears it and it makes her afraid." Bridget stood up and left the table, hardly having touched her meal.

"See, now look what you gone and done," Jayne said to River, who seemed as though she were about to cry. "Look what you did to her."

"Jayne!" Kaylee cried, shaking her head at him.

"What?" he asked with a shrug.

Bridget sat huddled in Jayne's bunk, wrapped in his blanket and trying her best to shake the chills she had. She'd never had a problem with River before, but the night before had severely tainted her relationship with the teenager. Bridget didn't see how she could ever look at River the same again. The girl wasn't right.

"You down here?" asked Jayne.

"Mmhmm," Bridget responded. Jayne climbed down the ladder. There was almost a look of concern on his face.

"You gonna be okay, Bridge?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "I really don't. It's very unsettling to be on good terms one day and having a loaded gun pointed at your head the next. I mean, I been shot once already this week, and I ain't too excited about the notion of repeating that particular moment in time. Especially if repeating it means getting my brains blowed out."

"Well they ain't blowed out, so it's time to get over it," Jayne said.

"My, how very compassionate you are," Bridget said sarcastically.

"It ain't that I don't care. There's a time after somethin' like that where you just gotta move on," Jayne said. "That's just the way it works. I've had guns pointed at my head plenty of times. I don't like it one bit, but I got myself over it."

"Some of us aren't mercenaries, Jayne," Bridget said quietly. "Some of us are cooks who don't expect to be killed in their own bunks."

"Well, traveling with us, maybe you should come to expect it," Jayne said with a shrug.

"Fine, maybe I will," Bridget muttered in an irritated way.

"Don't get all sulky on me," Jayne said impatiently. "Like I said, it ain't that I don't care."

"You're not acting like you care too much," Bridget said.

"Well, whaddya want? A hug? Sex?" asked Jayne.

"How on the-earth-that-was did you make the leap between a hug and sex?" Bridget wondered with a scoff. "Kinda on opposite ends of the spectrum, don't you think?"

"See, that's the problem I got with women-folk. Can't never tell what they want or how they want it or when they want it," Jayne grumbled.

"Hey, I thought you wanted this whole relationship thing. Wasn't that your idea?" Bridget asked.

"Yeah, but…"

"'Yeah but' what, Jayne? Yeah, but you weren't planning on respecting my feelings? Yeah, but you didn't know it would be this 'hard' after only a week? Yeah, but all you wanted out of me in the first place was sex?"

"You know that ain't true," Jayne said angrily.

"Do I?" Bridget asked.

"Well…you should…," Jayne stammered in his defense. "'Cause it ain't." Bridget sighed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't really mean to make a fight outta this…it's probably the three hours of sleep talking," she said.

"Probably so," he agreed. "Sorry if I, you know…offended you."

"You know, it's come to my knowledge that 'sorry' wasn't part of your vocabulary 'till just recently," Bridget said with a little smile.

"I don't like it too much, but I guess it just has to be said sometimes," Jayne said. "It's 'socially acceptable'."

"Know what else is socially acceptable?" Bridget asked.

"What?"

"Not having naked girls all over your bunk when you've got a girlfriend," she said.

"That what you are to me?" Jayne asked with a little smirk.

"Well, I dunno, but in any case, I don't like 'em. They got bigger tits than me," she said with a smirk.

Mal had kicked Wash out of the bridge a couple weeks later so he could do some poking around on the Cortex. Every few weeks, he made sure that he knew exactly what was going on in regards to the search for the Tam siblings. River and Simon were still towards the top of the list for most wanted, but upon further investigation, he couldn't find anything alluding to their current whereabouts. That's what he liked to hear.

He idly scrolled through the mug shots and profiles of hardened criminals just for the hell of it. He always thought it a little ironic to see River and Simon, two harmless looking kids, amongst greasy murderers and the like. Of course, River did have that little psychotic streak…

Mal was about to disconnect from the Cortex when a disturbingly familiar face registered in his brain. Black hair done up into a bun with chopsticks. A pleasant, round Chinese face, though in the picture she looked terrified. Profile said she was about 5'9", 120 pounds. Bridget Li, Mal's cook, was on the Alliance's most wanted list.

"Hey, Miss Bridget," Mal said as he strode into the kitchen, seeming a little too happy for Bridget's liking.

"Hey, Cap…," she said slowly. "You seem awful cheerful today."

"Actually, I'm just trying to keep from screaming at you. I like you too much to scream at you," he said with a forced smile. He thrust a print-off at her. "Wanna explain that to me?" Bridget took the paper from him and her eyes widened.

"Oh, no…," she muttered. Her mind raced, trying to remember her and Kaylee's shopping trip. She'd tried to keep an eye out for feds, but apparently it hadn't done a bit of good. "Well, sit down, Mal, 'cause I got a pretty long story to tell you."

"I got lots of time," he said taking a seat at the dinner table. Bridget sat down as well and wondered where to begin.

"You know, when I ain't havin' nightmares about River comin' and killin' me in the night, I dream about this," she said, gesturing to the mug shot. "Two, maybe three times a week…Anyway, when I was younger, I lived with my aunt and uncle for a while because my parents were off fighting in the Unification war. They were Brown Coats, like you and Zoë. Anyway, after they came back, they were practically war heroes even though the Independence lost. They were different after that…always on edge, kinda suspicious. Acting like the war wasn't really over. They'd leave the house and not tell me where they were going, and then they'd come back maybe a couple days later."

"Ever ask where they were off to?" asked Mal.

"Always," Bridget said. "But I could never get a straight answer from them. I even looked through their stuff and there wasn't a damn scrap of evidence. Then about a year later, I find this newspaper and it's got a picture of them on the front page. Said something about a rebellion. Couldn't read much of it 'cause they came home panicked, you know, and told me to hide. I was so confused; I didn't know what the hell was going on. That night some feds came to our house to arrest my parents. My dad shot two of them and the feds that were left killed them both on the spot. Shot 'em dead in front of me. They escorted me off world and dumped me on Beaumonde with no money and no place to stay. Told me if I was to come back to Persephone, they'd arrest me."

"Guess that's the reason for all the traveling," Mal said.

"Yessir," Bridget replied.

"What I don't see a reason for is you not tellin' me this from the beginning," said Mal. "You promised not to cause trouble."

"I didn't mean to, Captain, I swear it," Bridget said frantically, fearing the worst: being chucked off the ship.

"And even if you never told us, the least you could do would be to stay on the ship while we're on Persephone," Mal said. "Instead you did what? You went shopping with Kaylee. Bought yourself some decorations for your gorram room. That seem a little idiotic to you?"

"Yessir," Bridget muttered, her cheeks reddening. "It was a bad decision." Mal ran a frustrated hand through his hair and heaved a sigh.

"Look, I ain't gonna kick you off," he said. "I'm just…really, really…angry. When you know something like this is happening, you gotta think it through. See, look, this part right here," said Mal, pointing to the print off. "'Suspect was last seen boarding a Firefly transport ship.' That's us, Bridge. If the feds catch up with us, they could arrest not just you but Simon and River too. And I know a few lawmen who would be just tickled to get a hold of me and everyone else on this ship. And I don't want no one arrested."

"Me neither, sir," said Bridget. "It was a mistake."

"Glad you're willing to admit that," said Mal. "The likelihood is that they didn't follow us or Wash would have noticed something. Probably they're just on the lookout for you; you ain't the Alliance's top priority. The problem is, though, is that makes you the third fugitive on this ship, and that don't settle particularly well with me."

"Understandable, sir," Bridget said with a nod.

"Still don't know what your folks did to get hunted down?" asked Mal.

"No, sir," said Bridget. "I wouldn't even know where to start looking. The closest thing I had to a clue was that newspaper article, but I only caught a glimpse of it," said Bridget.

"It was a rebellion, you said?" he asked.

"Yessir."

"There've been a lot of Independence rebellions over these last few years. Might'a been the Unification Day Rebellion. Sounds about right for the time, but I'll poke around the Cortex for some more definite answers," he said. "What were their names?"

"Joseph and Marion," answered Bridget.

"Alright. Now, I want you to know something, Miss Bridget," Mal said, looking her dead in the eyes. "You got somethin' you gotta tell us, something important like this, you do it." Bridget nodded. "It's real important you keep me updated on situations that involve me and my crew. And don't you ever forget you're part of it, alright?"

"I won't, sir. Thank you," Bridget said, more than a little relieved. "I never intended to get us into trouble."

"I know you didn't," said Mal with a half a smile. "We're always in some kind of trouble or other anyhow, I suppose this don't make much difference."

"Maybe," she said. "I think I'm gonna finish up these dishes and head for my bunk…I got some serious thinking to do."

"You do that," Mal said.

Inara had had it. It had been almost two months since Mal promised to drop her off at New Melbourne. She'd confronted him about it before, letting him know that she was very serious about leaving, but he always had some kind of excuse. This was the last time that she was going to tell him.

"You called, Miss?" he asked as he strode into her shuttle.

"Yes," she said calmly. "I need to discuss my leaving with you for the fifth time."

"Inara, I really don't need this right now," Mal said with a smile and a shake of his head.

"I don't care," she said. "When are you dropping me at New Melbourne?"

"I've told you this once, and I'll tell you again; when business takes us there," Mal said.

"And when do you suppose that'll be, Malcolm?" Inara asked, her temper flaring. "How many more jobs are you going to turn down just so you can avoid it?"

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Mal asked angrily.

"I think that's exactly what you're doing," she said curtly.

"Okay, how 'bout you explain to me why, just so we're on the same page," he said sarcastically, getting very irritated.

"Because you don't want me to leave!" Inara cried. Mal opened his mouth to protest but Inara started talking over him "You don't want me to go where the business is!"

"That…it ain't….," Mal sputtered angrily.

"Yes it is! That's exactly what it is! You hate that I'm a Companion!"

"Fine! I do! That's what you want to hear, right?" Mal burst out, throwing his hands in the air.

"No, it isn't!" Inara said. "For once, I wish you'd just be a man and get over it!"

"Well…I-I can't," Mal stammered. An uneasy silence fell over them. "I can't, Inara. I can't stand the thought of you-"

"With somebody else?" she offered. Mal felt the atmosphere become very awkward. The only thing he wanted to do was walk out on this conversation. Instead, he just stood with his lips pressed angrily together, staring at Inara with intense eyes.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "More or less."

"Why?" she asked.

"Gorrammit, do we have to talk about this now?" he cried. "I am having a really bad day, Inara, and this isn't helping!"

"Well, if we don't talk about this now, when will we?" she asked indignantly.

"Preferably never," he shot back.

"Maybe we never will," she said, he voice dropping back to a normal volume. "I am leaving, Mal, you can't stop me."

"I know," he said with a little nod. "I know that. I just…"

"What?" she asked.

"Nothin'," he said with a quick little smirk. He turned to leave.

"Mal," Inara called.

"What?" Mal sighed impatiently as he turned back around. Inara approached him slowly.

"It's unhealthy to keep things bottled up," she said. "Do me this last favor: whatever it is that you need to get out, tell me."

"Whaddyou want from me, Inara? D'you want me to break down and cry and proclaim some kinda undying love?" he asked sardonically. "'Cause it ain't gonna happen. And what about you? You always seem to have somethin' on your mind whenever we talk, so why don't you let it on out? I think it's safe to say that our honesty with each other is at an all time high today, so let's have it."

"Are you sure you want to know?" she asked.

"Well…not really, but I figure we're on a roll," he said. "Spill." She fidgeted a little and bit her lip.

"You first."

"Alright," said Mal seriously. "Honestly? It makes me crazy that you're a Companion, inviting all sorts of men into your bed. It really does. And-," he stopped and ran a hand through his hair. "And we always get so close to…"

"To what?" she asked.

"Wanna let me finish?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Oh…go ahead," she stammered.

"Look," he sighed. "As much as I don't wanna talk about this, I think we're both well aware that things ought to have turned out different. A lot less professional, if you follow me."

"I suppose so," Inara said, trying to keep her cool, but failing. Her composed, delicate Companion façade was crumbling before Mal's eyes.

"And I guess now it's too late for all of that, since you're bent on leaving," he said.

"It is," she assured him, her voice trembling. "Much too late."

"And if that's true, then all I gotta say is I won't miss you," Mal said, his eyes steely. "'Cause you can't miss what you never had."

With that, Malcolm Reynolds excused himself from Inara's shuttle and marched up to the bridge to tell Wash to make a direct course for New Melbourne.