The days passed quickly on Serenity, turning into weeks, and still there was no word from Nash. Mal and Josephine feared the worst but couldn't bring themselves to talk on the subject. Instead, the Captain kept to himself during the day. He watched their supplies closely, knowing they would run out sooner than he'd like and they would have to find a job.

Josephine passed much of the time helping out in the kitchen. She didn't cook because she had no desire to actually hurt any of the crew, but she found herself shooing the others away after a meal to clear the table and wash the dishes, eager to be of use. She offered her services to Simon also, and together they began an extensive inventory of the infirmary as they cleaned and organized it. When there wasn't work to be done Jo spent time laughing with Kaylee and practicing her draw with Zoe in the cargo bay, a task which the first mate seemed to enjoy also. She felt Rawley's grasp slip away from her slowly as the time went by and Jo was surprised to discover that she hadn't been this close to true happiness in a long time. But the nightmares still came.

They were more intermittent and Josephine was able to push them to the back of her mind most of the time, but every few days she would wake from a particularly vivid one and find herself walking quietly along the familiar path to Mal's bunk. At these times they abandoned the pretense and when she laid down next to him Mal would pull her to him, wrapping himself around her, and she didn't care. In fact, she delighted in it and had seriously considered, on more than one occasion, to pretend to have nightmares simply so she could go to him. In the end she couldn't force herself to be dishonest with him again, no matter how much she craved his arms around her. She also couldn't seem to force herself to stay until he woke up. When the artificial light came on dimly, simulating dawn, she would creep away quietly. There was something about the darkness when she came to him that made it so private. She could never really see him then, only feel his body warm next to her own. In the light it was all different. It was real, intimate, and it frightened her.

So when she came to him one night, woken from her fitful rest by a particularly gruesome nightmare, and found Mal still awake, the light on, going over some papers at his desk, Jo wanted to leave. But he smiled at her softly and she couldn't make her legs listen to her brain. Now they sat together on the hard floor, him leaning against the wall, her sitting between his legs with her back to his stomach. Her head was tucked under his chin, his strong arms held tightly around her waist. Each warm presence a comfort to the other, in their own way.

The Captain had grown fond of their quiet moments together, hidden away from the rest of the worlds. He knew she only let him hold her during the times when she was the most vulnerable. When nothing she did could take the images from her mind and her dreams. He chased away her demons, and she let him. Josephine was less aware of what her presence afforded the Captain. He was surprised his own self when he realized how much he had come to rely on the simple fact that she... needed him. Sure Serenity needed him and so did it's crew, but not like this. Mal was vaguely aware that he was the only one who could do this for her, and he relished it. He rolled her need around himself as if it were something tangible that he could grab hold of and never let go. The results were intoxicating.

In fact, Mal suddenly realized, because she needs me, and I need... need. I need her as well. He understood perfectly what he was thinking, but he laughed out loud suddenly at the absurdity of his thought process.

Jo leaned forward and turned her head so that he could see her profile. "What's so funny?"

"It's nothing, I was just thinking..." his words drifted off suddenly as he caught a glimpse of the brand her hundan of a husband had burned into her flesh. He pressed a finger too it, feeling the rigid scars, and before he could think, he had pulled the fabric of her shirt to expose it completely, and brushed his lips against it gently.

Her body went stiff. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know. I just..." But now he was laying feathery kisses across the scar tissue surrounding her collar bone, one after another.

Her shoulders tensed again and he heard her inhale sharply as though in pain. Stopping what he was doing, he placed his hands on her hips, coaxingly. "Turn around?" Jo could here that it was intended as a question.

She did as he asked, but hesitantly. When she was facing him, he immediately regretted asking her to because the look on her face broke his heart. It was fear. Fear of him, of what he might do to her. His hands fell loosely to his sides.

"I'm sorry," he wouldn't look at her now, his eyes were on the floor. "I don't know what I was thinking, I shouldn't have."

"Mal," she whispered softly, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek.

He looked up quickly, instinct causing him to turn towards her hand. The fear was still there, he could tell. But she had managed to push it back somehow, below, ready to surface at a wrong word or touch.

"Mal," Jo spoke again, louder this time. "I want to forget."
He took her hand from his face and brought her wrist to his mouth, placing a delicate kiss over the thin scar, before placing both their hands over his heart. "It won't make you forget."

She stared at their hands, his over hers, over his heart. "Maybe, maybe not." She let her eyes meet his. "But maybe it will help me remember something else for awhile."

He pulled her to him then, trapping their hands between them and tilting his head to hers in a chaste kiss. Mal couldn't explain it, but it felt right. He pulled back slightly, resting their foreheads together. His breath blew warm on her skin as he breathed, "Are you sure?"

"No," she answered quickly. "I'm not sure about anything anymore." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. "But I want you to show me the difference," she said, remembering their conversation in the kitchen, that seemed so long ago. "Just do one thing for me..."

"What's that?"

"Don't let me stop, no matter what. I need to do this."

He paused a moment, uncertainty evident on his face. "But do you want to do this."

She looked at his chest, blushing slightly. "Yes."

He went to his knees slowly, raising her chin and pulling her up with him. "Put your arms around my neck," Mal spoke gently as he placed first one and then her other arm gently behind his head.

"And now what?"

The Captain smiled patiently as he bent his head towards her again. He traced the outline of her jaw in kisses before moving to her mouth with a greater passion than he had before. His hands moved up and down her back, caressingly, while his tongue prodded her lips, silently willing her to open to him. His eyes widened in surprise when she readily opened her mouth and met his with an equally aggressive tongue of her own, as though determined to make up for the years that had been taken from her. He watched her eyes flutter shut and felt one of her hands move from his neck to tangle in the back of his hair.

Moaning softly, Mal locked his arms around her back and stood up, holding her feet off the ground. The sudden movement startled her and she broke the kiss. She found herself looking down at him, bewildered wonderment stretched over her face. He moved a hand to her legs, encouraging her silently to place them around his waist, and walked the short distance to his bunk.

He laid her on her back gently, hair fanning out over the pillow, and sat next to her an arm on either side. While he brought his lips to hers again, she felt one of his large rough hands slide under her sleep shirt and caress the jagged scar across her stomach.

She gasped at his touch and he withdrew his hand quickly. Instead, he began unbuttoning the oversized shirt Kaylee had given her to sleep in. Seeing what he was doing, she sat up and put her own hands on his suspenders, her face turned to him in question. When he nodded, she slid first one then the other off his shoulders while his deft hands worked her own buttons.

Fisting her hands into Mal's shirt above his hips, she tugged at the fabric to untuck it. Mal's hands fell from her shirt prematurely and his head rolled back, moaning lowly at the sensation of the fabric being slowly yanked from his pants. Jo looked at him, surprise showing plainly on her face, and experimentally pulled harder on the shirt causing him to cry out and pull her to him again, bruising her mouth with his own.

When he brought his hands to her shirt again, they moved more hastily. Following his example, she quickly began unbuttoning his own. He finished first, but waited for her to finish his own before they each pushed the others shirt off their shoulders and onto the floor. His eyes glided over her upper body, most of which he had been shown when they first met. But now he could see how dangerously close the scar tissue came to each breast, almost marring their perfection.

He jumped suddenly, as he felt a warm hand on his chest. He looked at her quickly. She was staring thoughtfully at his upper right chest, a finger running vertically about two inches, before turning and moving in the opposite direction. He looked down at her hand. It was rubbing one of his own scars. He stopped her hand and she looked a question at him. "I got stabbed," he stated simply.

Slowly he pushed her back until she was laying, and before she could react he leaned over and licked the sensitive scar tissue on her stomach causing her to cry out and arch her back off the thin mattress. He quickly did the same to the round pink scar on her arm and above her breast. He hesitated over them, finally deciding to gently nip each breast before putting his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and under things.

"Wode ma!" She cried out and fisted her hands into his sheet. Raising her head to look at him, shirtless and kneeling near her legs, she groaned low in her throat and instinctively raised her hips so that he could remove the last barrier to her. He discarded these clothes with the rest and looked down at her in awe. It was what he'd expected, more scars across her right thigh, but her left... her left thigh looked like melted candle wax. Burn scars, acid scars. Mal felt rage boiling through him at the man that did this. He must have tied her down, Mal thought, tied her down and just poured it on her over and over. Mal shook slightly, trying to fight the overwhelming need to hit something.

Josephine saw the revulsion on his face and a sob escaped her lips while her hands attempted to cover up her thigh and retrieve her shorts from the floor.

The Captain, realizing that she had misinterpreted his expression, caught her hands in his own and pressed them into the soft mattress. "No xin gan. It's not for you." He bent down and kissed her left thigh. The skin was rough, ridged, like frozen, fleshy water. When he looked back at her, her eyes were wide. "You are beautiful." His eyes roamed over her body, taking in each scar, a tribute to her strength. He bent back down and trailed kisses across her left thigh and then her right. Slowly he parted her legs and kissed the inside of both thighs, causing her to sigh deeply. This time he was able to stop the fury from showing on his face as he noticed another brand on the inside of her thigh, identical to the one on her back. He looked at her again, her skin was flushed, her lips red and swollen. As he stared at her he slowly ran a hand through her curls and her hips rose off the bed, pressing herself into his hand, as she gasped. He could feel her, hot and wet and ready against his palm. He kissed his way up, all the way back to her pouted mouth, and this time it was deep and frantic as they tasted each other.

Taking her hand in his, he guided it down his chest towards the straining bulge in his trousers and her eyes got even wider as she felt him through the thick material. He smiled at her deviously, and kissed her again. Jo rubbed his erection through the fabric and his head rolled back, eyes fluttering closed. "Ahhh...," he reached for her hand and brought it back where he could keep an eye on it. Shaking his finger at her teasingly, he said, "now you're not playing fair." She smiled back at him coyly.

Finally, Mal leaned back on his heels to undo his belt, surprised to see how his hands were slightly shaking. Josephine observed him closely as he stepped out of his remaining clothes and rejoined her on the bed. He positioned himself above her, hands sliding up her stomach to cup her breasts, making her squirm in pleasure. Using a knee he gently, separated her thighs and nudged the head against her folds. Jo inhaled sharply and Mal looked into her eyes quickly, not liking what he saw there. The fear was back, the fear that Mal was going to hurt her like Rawley had done. He pushed into her gently and a sob broke her lips as she began to cry.

"No! Please don't..." her voice was panicked, higher-pitched. "Please," she whimpered. Her eyes screwed shut and she began mumbling frantically to herself, like she did when she dreamed. Mal kept pushing slowly inside her, feeling like the most horrible man in existence, but knowing that she was remembering Rawley right now, she wasn't thinking about the Captain. "I can't... please...guai..." He didn't catch everything she said, but each terrified sound made his heart ache.

When he was completely sheathed inside her he remained still, holding her close, stroking her hair. "Shhhh bao bei. It's alright." He pressed his mouth against her ear. "Come back to me."

She stopped mumbling. "Mal?"

He looked at her, eyes still closed tightly. "It's me. Open your eyes." His voice had become throaty and deep, and Jo could hear the sorrow mingled with desire. She blinked slowly, before focusing on his own eyes. "See, there's no one here but you and me." She had half expected to see Rawley's maniacal glint staring back at her. She had not expected to see what she did in Mal's eyes, and it took her breathe away. She had seen a mixture of desire, respect and something that could be love, she wasn't sure.

He kissed her deeply, biting the corners of her mouth as he began to move slowly within her.

"Ooh!" Jo clutched at his back while she arched her hips, rising to meet him. Mal moaned loudly and quickened his pace as she involuntarily spasmed around him. For a few long moments, they lost themselves in each other. Nothing but their moans and sighs, the sound of flesh meeting flesh, reached their ears.

He lowered his head to her breasts nipping and sucking gently, making Jo's breathe come in gasps. He thrust harder and harder, forgetting to be gentle now, until Jo's climax came crashing down upon them both. Her head flew back, face flushed, as her hips thrust upward and she dug her nails into his back as she came. He watched her carefully, and she was the most beautiful thing he had every seen. And then, like a prayer from her lips she whispered "Mal," and the last reserves of his control melted away as he came crashing into her, supporting most of his weight on his arms while he rested his head against her breast.

When their breathing slowed, he rolled onto his back and pulled her across his chest, slick with their mingled sweat, and into his arms. He kissed her tenderly, first on the lips and then on the forehead, and it was then that she knew what it was she was feeling. Never before had she felt so safe.