Chapter 11:
"So how do you know my dad?" Alexis asked, as she offered Inara the sofa.
Inara sat down and Alexis joined her at a nearby chair. "We..." She honestly hadn't considered the possibility that she would need to explain herself to anyone besides Mal. "Used to live near each other. And I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd stop by to say hello. I probably should have called first, but I wanted to surprise him."
"I'm sure he'll be glad to see you," said Alexis.
"He's... never mentioned me, has he?" Inara ventured to ask.
"No," said Alexis, delving into the back of her mind. "I don't think so." But then she considered that perhaps that wasn't what Inara wanted to hear, so she added, "But my dad hasn't told me about a lot of his old girlfriends."
"Oh," said Inara. "I'm not-"
She was cut off by the sound of the front door opening and then closing again. A woman entered, went over to the kitchen counter, and slumped down exhausted onto the nearest stool.
"Hey, Gram," said Alexis.
"Hello, darling. You would not believe the day I had!" She then looked up and noticed the unknown guest watching her curiously from the sofa. "I'm sorry," said Martha. "I didn't realize there was company." She promptly stood up and walked over to shake Inara's hand. "I'm Martha Rogers, Alexis' grandmother."
"Inara Serra," said Inara. "It's a pleasure. So you're Alexis' mother's mother?"
"No," she said. "I'm Richard's mother."
"I'm sorry," said Inara. "But I'm confused. How can you be his mother?"
Martha, remembering Simon's recent visit, figured out what was happening straight away. She covered it up by answering, "I know. I've been blessed with perfect skin; it runs in the family... and a few face-lifts never hurt." She then grabbed Alexis' arm and pushed her out. "Alexis, can you excuse us for a few minutes, please?" Alexis, thoroughly confused, went to her room with little protest.
Once Alexis was out of sight, Martha turned back to the visitor. "You're one of them, aren't you?" she said. "One of his crew."
"Technically," Inara said. "I'm not crew, but I do live aboard Serenity. But who are you? Because you certainly can't be his mother..." She then added a bit hesitantly, "Can you?"
"No," said Martha, smiling sadly. "I was the Alliance officer sent here with him. But we've become very close over the years. Sometimes I forget he isn't really my son."
"You're Alliance?" said Inara.
"Not for a very long time," said Martha.
"I just can't believe it, though," Inara murmured to herself.
"We all have past regrets," said Martha. "And I know you agree because that's obviously why you're here."
"I'm here because Mal should be back in his own time, with his friends, his family."
"But he is with his family," said Martha. "And he has plenty of people here that care about him just as much as his old crew. Not only that, but he's made a respectable life for himself; what does he have waiting for him back with you, besides a life of crime?"
"He did more than just crime," said Inara, indignant. "Many times, he showed the only compassion some back-water planets ever received; Mal helped those whom the Alliance forgot, even if it meant a bit of thievery and cunning."
"He sounds like a regular modern-day Robin Hood," said Martha. "But if he were to return, would it be to the same place he left? Surely life went on without him."
"The Alliance fell," said Inara. "It started with the revelation of Miranda, which would never have happened without Mal. After the destruction of war, the planets are finally starting to build themselves up again. There's so much opportunity for good, but at the same time, also for so much corruption. We need someone like Mal around; we need someone like him to lead us through the chaos."
Even as she spoke them, she was surprised at her own words. She didn't know where they came from, but she knew for sure that she would never have said any of this directly to Mal himself. Perhaps that was why she was never able to fully figure him out... because they could never be completely open with each other. But, if she was going to be completely honest with herself at that moment, she would admit to suddenly succumbing to a bit of doubt: who was she to say what was best for Mal? But at the same time, was it really about Mal? Or was it about those who truly needed him? And it was that thought that urged Inara to continue defending her point.
"How great of a leader was he, though," countered Martha. "If he couldn't inspire others to fend for themselves?"
"He inspired us to have confidence in ourselves," said Inara. "To be better people than we once thought we could be. We don't need him to lead us into battle, but we need him to remind us that there is still a battle to be fought."
"I thought that's what you were here to remind him, though?" said Martha. Inara stared at her, but this time, she didn't answer.
The thick silence was suddenly interrupted by the phone ringing. Martha went to answer it. "Richard... Wait, listen... Hold on... But..." She then hung up the phone and sighed, turning back to Inara. "That was Richard... Mal. He said they have a lead on the case they're working on, and won't be back until much later."
"I thought he was supposed to be an author?" said Inara.
"He is," explained Martha. "But he also helps the police with their homicide cases."
"See," said Inara, standing up. "Even after all this time, he still can't not help people that need him. Now, how do I get to the police station?"
Mal and Kate stood at the front door to Heather Donovan's apartment.
"Ms. Donovan?" said Kate, knocking on the door. "Open up, NYPD. Ms. Donovan?"
No answer, then a muffled crash. Kate tried the knob, but it was locked. She slammed into the door, breaking it down. Brandishing her gun, she rushed into the apartment just in time to catch a glimpse of James Cartwright trying to leave through the fire escape while Heather looked on in panic.
"Hold it right there."