Efram Anders thought of himself as a good man and an even better steward, much like his father before him. He prided himself on his ability to keep his masters house and affairs in excellent order and in his seventy-eight years in the world he had done nothing overly wrong or nefarious. Yet, as he limped slowly down the dark hallway of the immense estate where he worked, he couldn't help but wonder how he had wound up in the employ of Bryce Rawley. The man was evil, Efram had no doubts about that. In his younger days, before his left leg was stiffened with arthritis, he had been the steward to Rawley's father, and he, like the estate and finances, had passed to the son. Kristof Rawley had not been the best of men and Efram knew, even when he worked for him, that his business practices were crooked, but Bryce had managed to outstrip his father in the subtle art of cruelty.

Efram looked the other way as Bryce began to accumulate wives, wanting to believe the man was simply insatiable when it came to the fairer sex, and when he learned of the manner in which they were treated he knew it was already too late. To leave with such knowledge meant death, and though he was old, he was too weak to allow his death to be at Rawley's hand. He would have some control over that, if nothing else. Still, the old man's conscience plagued him constantly, and he found himself risking his position and life by sneaking the girls extra food and tending to their wounds when he could.

He rubbed his face wearily as he stopped in the corridor, resting his leg for a moment. It's not enough, he thought. But what could I do? Who would believe me? Rawley puts on such a sociable and courteous face when he leaves this place. And even if I thought I could get away with it, who would help the girls if I were found out? Shaking his head at his own fear and lack of honor, Efram began his slow trek up the hallway again. It seemed his one comfort lately was knowing that Josephine had gotten out again, and this time she'd broken her record and been gone much longer than normal. Of course, this made life that much more unbearable for the people still left in Rawley's care. The man became more and more frustrated at ever day that passed and he hadn't found her. But Efram couldn't begrudge her for thinking of herself first, it was his own rationalization for not acting.

"You just steer clear girl," he whispered as he stopped in front of a large oak door. Rawley's bedroom, among other things. He listened carefully for a moment, ear pressed to the cool wood. The only noise he could hear was the soft murmur of Rawley's voice. Raising a gnarled fist, he rapped twice with familiar efficiency. The murmuring stopped abruptly and he only had to wait a moment before the door opened a crack. A sliver of light stretched across the dark hallway and Rawley eyed him suspiciously before opening the door the whole way. Efram found himself blinking as the light spilled over him, bathing the corridor.

"Ah, Efram, it's only you." With the door open, the old steward could see the handsomely furnished room clearly, but it was the young girl on the bed that caught his eye. Mira, he thought, the youngest since Josephine. She looked at Efram, eyes pleading, and his eyes slipped down to Rawley's hand. Grasped loosely in the palm was a small serrated knife, and he looked up quickly, his face a mask of nonchalance. He had learned long ago to school his features around this man, but he could feel his heart weeping for the young girl. She was mute, had been her whole life supposedly, and Rawley was especially vicious to her. Efram had the sneaking suspicion that Bryce was testing her. The cruel man seemed to believe he could somehow make her forget to be mute, that he could cause her so much pain that it would all build up inside her until she had no choice but to force her vocal cords to work and scream for him. So far no luck and Mira had the scars to prove it. The newest was still red and angry as it stretched from the tip of her right eyebrow to the middle of her cheek.

"What is it Efram?" Rawley's voice was cold, daring him to speak out on the girl's behalf. "News from Acorus?"

The old man focused his attention back on his employer, internally scolding himself for being silent. "Yes Sir, cargo's been delivered."

"And Josephine, did Marco find her?" Rawley's eyes lit up, excitement apparent in his maniacal glint and Efram shifted uncomfortably. He hated to be the bearer of bad news to this man, never quite sure if this would be the time he would lash out. He rubbed his leg absently, trying to find the right way to word it.

"Um... I don't know if he found your wife... but he was found dead, not far from the warehouse."

Rawley's eyes widened, losing some of their shine. "Dead?"

"Yes Sir. Him and a federal officer, three others were only wounded."

Rawley lunged out suddenly, thrusting the sharp point of the knife into the door frame, making Efram jump back. He took his hand away, leaving the knife in the wall, but his voice remained calm. "That's... unpleasant. Must have been on the right track though." He paused thoughtfully, looking at the knife, and Efram could see the wheels turning in his head. "Been with Serenity all this time... at least Marco was of some use in the end. And the diamond?"

"Gone."

Rawley smiled coldly and looked down, speaking softly to himself.. "Of course... clever Josephine." He turned back to Efram. "Was there anything else?"

The old man nodded. "Got a wave while you were out this afternoon, from Beaumonde. Two fella's, twins. Can't remember what they said their names was, but said they've got information you might find useful."

Rawley's eyes widened again. "Really?" He glanced back at the girl on the bed before looking at Efram. "Did they leave a place I could reach them?" Efram nodded quickly, wondering what kind of trouble he'd just gotten someone into. "Good, I'll wave them later." He wrapped his hand around the handle of the knife and tugged it away from the wood. "Right now I've got a previous engagement. Thank you Efram." He shut the door in the old man's face and Efram turned to make his way back up the corridor, feeling worse than he had when he came down it only moments before. The silence echoed in his ears and he almost wished he could here Mira crying out from behind the door. At least then maybe Rawley would stop, if only for the night.

Malcolm Reynolds woke the next morning, blinking back the artificial light that accosted him, indicating that it was technically daytime. He could feel the beginnings of a hangover and as the world came back into focus he remembered his actions from the night before. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, not ready to sit up yet. He didn't know what he had been thinking, or if he had been thinking at all. He had simply reacted, reaching out to Josephine, trying to ease her hurt. But even now he knew it wasn't just that. She intrigued him and he wasn't sure why. First, he had wanted to protect her, from Rawley and from her herself. It wasn't the burning passion he had felt for Inara, built from months of longing, but all the same, he wanted to touch her, to comfort her. It just wasn't like him to act on these urges and she had responded as though frightened of him. It dawned on him suddenly, why he had acted so strangely. It was because of Inara. They had spent all that time waiting, neither one willing to let their guard down and give in, seeing if it would work. Who's to say it wouldn't have worked long ago, maybe they had just missed their moment. The time just might have been wrong after Miranda and he had subconsciously decided to never ignore those feelings again. Now I'll never know, he thought sadly. He missed Inara, missed their conversations. The original fire was long dead but he had still enjoyed her company, when they weren't arguing that is.

He groaned again, thinking of Inara, and forced his legs over the side of his bed, pulling himself into a sitting position. Josephine was the last person he'd expect to be having these feelings for, and he wasn't a man to casually throw his affections around. And she was already so hurt, what was I expecting? He sat quietly on his bed, resting his head in his hands, and thinking about the hell this woman had been through. For the past seven years she had been beaten and raped on a regular basis, and she had the scars to prove it. Why should she trust me, or any man for that matter, after what's been done to her? She had even admitted to the Captain that her only physical encounters had been with Rawley and they had been unforgivable. He felt the familiar burning sensation in the pit of his stomach that arose whenever he found himself thinking about the hundan. All this only made him want her more. He wanted to show Josephine that it could be so much better, that she deserved so much more. If only she would let him.

Mal picked up his worn out red shirt, discarded on the floor the night before, and pulled it over his head. Running his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to make it lay flat, he climbed up the ladder of his bunk and made his way to the kitchen. Everyone but River was already there, eating breakfast, Zoe and Jayne sipping coffee together at the table. Kaylee and Simon were curled up in the same chair, apparently oblivious to those around them. He got a glimpse of Josephine, sitting cross-legged on the floor, separating herself from the others and studiously avoiding his eyes. Her skin was paler than usual and contrasted greatly with the black circles under her eyes. It looked as though she hadn't slept well, but he suspected she's been avoiding it altogether, not wishing to have a repeat of the other night.

"Good mornin' Captain." Kaylee tore her eyes away from Simon to greet Mal cheerfully and the others looked up, making their various salutations. Mal grunted in response and headed straight for the coffee, filling his cup to the rim. He kept it black and raised to his lips, inhaling the strong aroma before blowing on the steaming liquid gently. He joined Zoe and Jayne at the table just as River descended the stairs from the bridge. She moved with her usual grace, and Mal turned to her, wanting to ask where in the gorram she had them headed, but she surprised them all by walking to the far side of the room and sitting across from Josephine, mirroring her perfectly. The only difference was where Jo now had a wary frown on her face as she looked at the young psychic, River wore a small eerie smile.

Jo felt the skin on her arms creep as the young woman stared at her, obviously reading her. "What?" She kept her voice soft, not wanting it to carry to the other crew in the room.

River took her cue from Jo and lowered her own voice in a perfect imitation. "You don't sleep."

"Yes I do."

"Lies." She raised her eyebrows, tsk-tsking under her breath. "Stubborn girl won't cry. But then she has nightmares and won't sleep. Stubborn. Makes her face all scary under the eyes."

Jo lifted a hand to her eyes, rubbing as though it were black makeup that she could take off, but it was no use.

"Why won't Stubborn cry?"

Her frown deepened, clearly not liking the new nickname River had given her. "Look, I already had this conversation with Mal."

"I know." River spoke quickly, tapping her chin as she examined Jo. "You're trying to find another way..." She broke off suddenly, watching Jo as she glanced at Mal, taking a sip of coffee. Turning back, River broke out into a grin. "But I think Stubborn already has."

Josephine felt her mouth fall open in shock as she stared at River's smiling face. She didn't remember ever thinking it but as soon as the words had left the young woman's lips she knew they were true. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept so well or felt so rested like she had when she woke up with Mal only a few days before. She tried to steal another glance at the Captain but this time he was already looking her way and their eyes locked for a moment. Josephine pulled away first, turning back to River and trying to fight the blush that was creeping across her face. "I could never ask him to do that," she whispered.

"I could!" River jumped up suddenly, startling Josephine, and getting everyone's attention as she headed straight for the Captain.

"River!" Jo tried to call her back but it was no use. Feeling as though her stomach was going to drop through the floor and float away into space, she got up quickly to follow River, determined to stop her.

The young psychic's smile faded as she approached Mal, and to Jo's surprise and immense relief, she veered off suddenly, heading for the bridge. Unfortunately, this left Jo standing awkwardly in front of the Captain and he regarded her curiously. She opened her mouth as though to speak, searching for some excuse for the small scene, but was interrupted by a loud beeping resonating through the ship. The others acted immediately, following River to the bridge, and leaving a confused Josephine to stumble after them.

"What's going on?" She called to no one in particular, but it was Zoe that turned to answer her.

"Proximity alarm. Means another ship is nearby, probably not a friendly one."

Mal hit the switch to silence the alarm as they entered the bridge and made their way to the controls.

"Alliance. They want to talk to the Captain," River spoke calmly as she heard the others gather around her.

Mal turned around, eyes searching for Josephine. "Stay back." He glanced at Zoe and she nodded, indicating that she'd make sure Jo stayed out of sight of the camera. He looked at River questioningly. "Ship or space station?"

"Ship."

"Great..." he muttered. Shooing River out of the pilots chair, Mal sat down, forcing an easy smile onto his face as he turned to the camera.

"Mornin'. I'm Captain Reynolds, what can we do for you?"

"Good Morning Captain Reynolds." A surly faced man in his mid-fifties was staring back at Mal through the screen. "I'll cut to the point, shall I?" He didn't wait for Mal's approval and continued hurriedly. "You were seen with federal fugitive Josephine Rawley on Beaumonde and we have reason to believe she is currently on your ship."

Mal feigned confusion. "No one by that name on this ship, and if I spoke to this person on Beaumonde I didn't know who I was talkin' too."

The officer frowned. "If it's all the same to you, we'd like to come aboard and see for ourselves," he said, his tone clearly stating that it was not a request.

"One second..." Mal turned off the camera and put his hand over the mic before turning back to Zoe, a question plain on his face.

The first mate regarded him for a moment before speaking. "We run, they're gonna think we've got something to hide..."

The Captain laughed shortly, cutting her off. "We do have something to hide," Mal said, glancing at Josephine.

"Fine. But now they're gonna know it."

"We're gonna have to take that risk." He turned to River. "You think you can out maneuver them little Albatross?" She cocked an eyebrow at him, surprised he even needed to ask, and Mal smiled at her gently before turning the camera back on and removing his hand from the mic.

"You can board," he addressed the officer, his fake smile and tone back in place. "I'll get back to you when we're ready." He turned the system off and let River take the pilots seat from him. He found Kaylee and Simon standing in the back. "Kaylee, get to the engine room. Full burn." The mechanic nodded and hurried off the bridge, Simon on her heels.

Jo watched River spring into action with awe. Her deft hands moving over switches and dials, knowing exactly what combination to push to achieve full speed.

"You might want to hold on to something." Mal's voice came from right behind her and she turned around, slightly startled. Zoe and Jayne were strapping themselves into the other two chairs on the bridge.

"What?" Her question was too late and as Serenity thrust forward at a speed Jo had never felt, the momentum threatened to throw her backwards, into the glass. Mal's hand closed around her wrist, the other firmly grasped on the railing to hold himself in place, and pulled her back. She put one hand next to his on the railing and threw the other around his back, fighting to stay where she was. She felt his other arm pushing against the small of her back, holding her in place.

Mal looked down at her. "We were followed from Beaumonde," he yelled to be heard over Serenity. "Guessin' someone recognized you. Just had to get off of the ship didn't you." His tone was accusatory, but underneath, he sounded somewhat amused.

Jo stared at him a moment, before yelling back. "It was important, you know that." Just as soon as it began, Serenity began to slow down, and soon Jo was able to take her hand off the railing and step away from Mal.

He looked down at her again, no longer needing to shout. "I guess it was." He turned his attention to River as he stepped closer to the controls. "Anyone following?"

She shook her head, a smile on her face.

"Maybe not now, but they will." Jayne stood next to Mal, a scowl on his face. "They'll keep comin', specially since we just pretty much confirmed she's here."

Mal regarded the large man impassively. "And we'll keep runnin'." Sensing movement out of the corner of his eye, Mal turned to see Josephine leave the bridge and he stared after her a moment.

"Sir?"

"Hmmm?" The Captain shifted his attention to Zoe.

"What now?"

Mal sighed and rubbed his forehead before answering her. "We head for the rim, stay off the radar for awhile. Hope we get lucky for once." He turned to leave, Jayne's snort at his choice of words following him down the stairs.

That night, while the others were asleep, Mal found himself wandering the dark corridors of Serenity. It was his usual routine, when he couldn't sleep. Walking along each passage, boots padding softly over the metal grating, double checking that everything was secure. Sometimes he would find Kaylee in the engine room, tirelessly working and he would sit with her awhile, until his eyes began to droop and she would teasingly order him to get some rest.

He began the familiar trek through the passengers area and everything seemed quiet. He paused outside Jo's door, a faint rustling getting his attention. Pressing his ear to the door, he could hear her moving about inside. He raised his hand, knocking gently, and heard her stop what she was doing and stand still, probably debating over seeing who it was or just pretending to be asleep. In the end she opted to see who it was and slid the door open slowly.

"What are you doin' in here?" He looked over her shoulder. The small amount of borrowed clothes was sitting in the middle of the room.

Josephine turned, leaving the door open for him to come in if he wanted, and knelt down by the folded clothes. She picked up the first, one of Zoe's shirt and shook it so it came unfolded. "Can't sleep, I'm just trying to keep busy." He watched in amazement as she refolded the shirt and placed it next to her, only to do the same to the next article of clothing. She looked more tired than she had been when he saw her that morning, sickly pale and dark all around her eyes.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

She looked up at him surprised, as though she'd forgotten he was there. Nodding, she followed his pointed hand and sat on the bed waiting for him to join her. Instead, he leaned against the opposite wall, observing her quietly.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I wanted to apologize, for the way I acted on Beaumonde..." he trailed off, shifting uncomfortably against the wall, and Jo got the impression he didn't apologize often.

"I appreciate that, but it was my fault. I'm the one that should be sorry. I should have just told you the real reason I needed to go with you." She picked gently at the blanket, not looking at him. They sat that way few moments, neither speaking and her looking down while Mal watched her carefully. Several times he thought he saw her eyes close, but each time she would shake herself and force them open.

"So... how's the sleep thing going?"

"Fine," she answered, a bit defensively.

Mal frowned at her. "Don't look fine. You're exhausted and it's really late."

"You're up," she snapped making him fall silent.

He pushed himself away from the wall and started for the door. "You're right, it's high time I got to bed."

"Mal," she jumped up quickly, legs nearly giving out from lack of sleep. He hovered near the door, interested in what she had to say. "I didn't mean to snap at you... I'm just so tired. So tired." She wouldn't look at him again and her voice had dropped to a whisper. "Will you stay? I'm so tired..."

He wouldn't have been more surprised if she had pulled a gun out and shot him. "Why," he asked curiously.

"Cause River is right. You helped me sleep before. I'm so sorry, I'm so tired." She was starting to become incoherent as she rambled and Mal slid the door shut behind him.

"I'll stay." He could tell how much this was hurting her to have to ask him, but her pride could suffer a bit, if for a good cause. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, neither one sure what to do next.

Mal broke the silence. "Just stay in the room, or..." he nodded toward the bed and watched as Jo's expression went from foggy to horror struck. "Just to sleep," he added.

She nodded as she climbed onto the bed and under the cover tentatively. Jo lay on her side, face turned to the wall, leaving plenty of room. She heard him kick his boots off and closed her eyes tightly as she felt him slide in behind her. He also lay on his side, but facing her back, not touching. He left a small gap between them, not wanting to frighten her anymore than she already was, but they were still very close and could easily feel each others body heat under the blanket. This close, Mal could also feel the slight tremors that kept running through her, and hated the fact that she was afraid of him. Hesitantly, he slid an arm around her side and over her stomach. He felt her tense under his arm and resisted the urge to pull her closer to him. Mal left the gap between them and slowly he felt her relax. Her breathing slowed down as she felt his breath hot on her neck and soon she drifted off, exhausted, into a deep dreamless sleep.