A/N: Constructive criticism requested. Thank you.
Input
He'd assisted at lots of births before.
Well, okay. Two. But he'd handled the first one relatively well, and he'd thought he'd be okay for the second. Someone should have told him that it was an entirely different story when it was your wife and your child involved.
Simon Tam leaned his head back against Serenity's wall and concentrated on breathing. He was the only doctor on the ship, and if he managed to have a heart attack no one was going to save him. Except maybe River, and he wouldn't care to stake his life on his little sister, even if she happened to be in one of her more lucid moments.
Well, it was over now. He could go and get roaring drunk if he so chose, except the last time he'd gotten roaring drunk had led in a somewhat indirect manner to him being the only doctor in God-only-knew how much open space when Kaylee went into labor.
Definitely not repeating that experiment.
Anyway, they now had a perfectly healthy little girl sleeping peacefully on her mother's stomach. Kaylee named her Sarie. Sarie Tam.
He had asked, a few days ago, if he got to have any input in naming the baby at all. Kaylee had looked at him, looked at her belly, and informed him that she thought he'd done plenty inputting already. Simon laughed a little at the memory. It wasn't as if he minded the name she'd chosen. Sarie.
It was certainly nothing his parents and their set would have ever considered naming a child. Their taste ran more to upper-class English names—Gabriel, Simon, Regan, Christina. River was about as odd as they got.
Odd…odd, how they'd let River go so easily. The thing that had surprised him most about Sarie was the fierce protectiveness she inspired. Even before she was born he'd felt it, and now that he could actually see her and hold her, he knew that he would kill anyone who tried to hurt her. Hadn't his father felt the same way about River?
Maybe it happened to all men. Maybe as soon as the first shock of fatherhood faded, so would his interest. Maybe he would be like his father, distant, remote. Unwilling to be there, to help out. Trying to substitute things for love.
Simon sighed, closed his eyes, and thunked his head back against Serenity's wall again. Logically, he knew he was being silly. Logically, he knew he was only feeling sorry for himself because every other member of the ship's crew was currently cooing over his daughter, leaving no space for him in the infirmary. Emotionally was a different story altogether.
What if he was like that? Could he actually abandon his daughter to the Alliance? Was he even capable of being a good father? Would Sarie come to despise him as he despised his father? Would…
whap
A sharp crack of pain lashed across his forehead. "Ow!" Simon sat bolt upright and rubbed his head. His sister stood across from him, her expression bored. "River! What was that for?"
"You were being stupid," River explained, as if speaking to a child. "When you act too stupid to live, you should be put out of your misery. Be grateful I didn't hit you as hard as I could." She went up on her toes, and added in a brief sing-song, "Simple Simon, met a pieman, going to the fair..."
"What? River…"
"And don't start going on about emotions and logic," River said, lucid again. "It's stupid. Anyway, you know you can go and push people out of the way. It's your baby."
"She. Sarie is a girl." Simon swung his feet down from the table and stood up, carefully. He still wasn't sure how much damage River had done.
"I know that, stupid." River wandered away from him and picked up a cup at the table. "I made her a pink bow."
"The others…" She gave him a look unique to River.
"You're her father," she said. "You can push them out of the way. I just said this. Do I need to say it slower? Anyway, Kaylee will get mad at you if you don't show up."
Simon rolled his eyes at his sister and started towards the infirmary. Halfway out of the commons, he changed his mind and turned back towards River. "Thanks, River."
River danced in a slow, floating circle. "Simple Simon went to look if plums grew on a thistle. You're welcome."
