"Captain, this is ridiculous. You can't really expect me to do this on such short notice!" Simon protested hotly, looking up from where he was seated next to Kaylee.

"You did it just fine with no promptin' when we was on Canton," Mal countered, ignoring everyone else present at the moment. Past differences aside, he couldn't afford to let Simon back out of this.

"Need I remind you how that went?" Simon countered. "I hope not, because personally, I've been trying to forget." Simon tried studiously to ignore him and resumed watching the game of dominoes Kaylee and River were playing.

"Doc, you're a member of this crew," Mal continued, "That means if I need to use you to swindle swineish mayors out of their hard earned dollars, I'll use you. Dong ma? Right now, I need to use you so you'd best be complyin'."

"And why, dare I ask, do you expect me to do anything to help you?" the doctor demanded, his voice laced with anger. "Or have you forgotten that you tried to kill me barely a week ago?"

Wash looked up from where he was sprawled out on one of the gaming sofas, an amused expression on his face. In one hand he had a bottle of Kaylee's hooch and a half-drained cup in the other. "It's always hard to forget when the captain starts threatening to kill members of his crew!" he sarcastically called.

Mal frowned and chose to ignore Wash. "Fair enough -- but here's the thing. This is our first job with Fanty and Mingo, and if we blow it, it’s also our last job for ‘em. Not only that, we don't make good and they’ll send their boys to collect what we owe 'em. When them boys come to collect, they take our money, our merchandise, and our kneecaps -- including those of anyone who didn't want to help because they was still pissed at me for something I've done put behind me already. Hell, if I didn't make my crew work when they was pissed at me, we'd never get anything done."

"That's true," Jayne snorted in agreement. Mal glared at him and he shut up.

Simon looked to be waging some kind of internal war. When his face finally crumpled in a look of defeat, Mal knew he'd won. "But I don't know anything about shoes!" the doctor complained.

"I can guarantee you, neither does this guy. Just act all prissy like you're good at and pretend like you do. He'll eat it up. You didn't know nothin' about mud neither, did you? Besides, I'll be sending Jayne with you."

"Why d'I gotta go with him?" Jayne complained and thumbed at Simon. The mercenary was slouching back against the table, his legs sprawled out into the room. "I ain't a Core pretty boy. Why can't ya send Wash?"

"You implying I'm a pretty boy, Jayne?" Wash asked, fluttering his lashes.

"If the shoe fits," the mercenary muttered.

"That is quite possibly the worst pun I've ever heard," Wash deadpanned, before breaking into a victorious smile. "I commend you!" he crowed and raised his glass.

"Wash ain't Core, Jayne," Zoe remarked with trademark calm as she stepped away from the stairwell.

"Wouldn't be your husband if I was, right lamby toes?" he grinned at her.

"Don't matter none. Big mouth like his, he can put it on," Jayne retorted grumpily.

"Look, y'all shut up," Mal snapped before the argument could deteriorate into a sniping match. "Jayne, you gotta go cuz you're the biggest one here. I ain't sendin' you to be a shoe merchant -- I'm sending you to be a bodyguard."

Simon visibly paled at this and Kaylee looked up from her game with River, concerned. "You think he'll need a bodyguard?"

"No, I don't. Nickelcreek ain't exactly ribbons and ponies, but it's safe enough. What it is, though, is Border -- and you're supposed to be coming from deep Core. Man like that's liable to get nervous, heading out into the black. Bound to bring along some hired muscle, just to impress the buyers 'n keep the locals in line." He nodded to Jayne. "Bingo."

Jayne made a face. "Aw, hell, Mal --"

"Quit yer bellyachin', cuz it's already been decided," Mal cut him off. "Simon, I want you to wear the most ridiculous, poncy Core get up y'got. I don't want this fella havin' any doubt you're from Osiris, dong ma? Jayne, get your whoring shirt on."

"So, what am I supposed to do?" Jayne grumbled. "Hulk around and look big?"

"That's the idea. Keep the doctor out of trouble."

"So, he won't be required to actually talk?" Simon asked, hopefully.

"Nope."

"Good. For a moment I was worried."

"That s'posed to be an insult, Doc?" Jayne questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

"It was but I understand if the logic defied you," Simon countered.

"Okay, you two, that's enough," Mal silenced the men, running his hands distractedly through his hair. "You're worse'n a pair of old women, I swear. Simon, all you gotta do is convince him we're legit, then get him to fork over the payment we already got arranged. How's the leg?" he questioned.

Simon instinctively put his hand over where he'd been shot. "It's better, actually," he noted. "Not perfect but better."

"Good," Mal stated bluntly.

"There is a flaw in your plan, Captain," River interjected from where she was sitting, behind him.

"What would that be, Little Witch?" Mal asked, glancing over his shoulder at her and found her still intently concentrating on her game with Kaylee.

"This isn't legitimate, and Simon can't lie." It was disconcerting that she could hold a conversation with him while simultaneously trouncing Kaylee at dominoes.

Mal turned his attention back to the doctor. "That true, Doc?"

Simon was blushing faintly. "Well... I'll admit I have a little difficulty..."

"His ears go pink and he stammers," River supplied.

"Thank you, mei-mei," Simon said wearily.

"How come you didn't do none of that when you first come on board with Crazy?" Jayne asked, genuinely perplexed. "You were lyin' real good back then, least about what was in that box."

"First, I'd appreciate it if you'd not refer to my sister as 'Crazy,'" Simon said irritably. "Secondly, that was acting, not lying. There's a difference."

"Well there you go then," Mal said, clapping the doctor on the back. "Consider this your chance to tread the boards in grand fashion, Doc. Your acting debut!"

Simon looked around the common room, saw the expectant smiles on every face but Jayne's, and sighed. "Fine," he mumbled, crossing his arms over his stomach. "But if my vest gets ruined, you owe me a new one."

The Training House and its outer-buildings had obviously been built by a Border world architect who thought he understood Companionhood but had clearly never been to a real Guild Hall. All the buildings looked like a very respectable brothels, including the large hall, which Inara assumed was the training center.

The deep red clapboard structures were tucked into a small canyon to protect it from some of the desert elements, but the buildings were already starting to look slightly weathered - and they weren't even finished yet. The main house had large windows and a farmer's porch decked out in ornate, classical gilt molding that offset the burgundy of the weatherboard.

It was, perhaps, the tackiest thing she'd ever seen. The Guild must be desperate for expansion if they were willing to train the novices in a place like this. In fact, the only aspect of the Training House that seemed familiar were the white robed novices, walking in giggling groups between the buildings.

"Inara!"

Turning, Inara smiled broadly as Miri emerged from the training house to wrap her in a perfumed hug. "Hello, Mi-Mi," Inara said, embracing the other woman in return. Miri was slightly taller than her, angular yet striking. She had what Inara's mother would call delicate features, though Inara knew from personal experience that Miri was far from fragile.

"Let me look at you," Miri breathed, holding her at arm's length. The other Companion was wearing a stunning green and gold silk gown that fluttered in the dry desert breeze. "I didn't think it was possible, Inara, but I believe you're even more radiant now than when you left Sihnon."

Inara gave the other woman a broad smile. "Nothing compared to you, Mi-Mi. Life in the Core has done you well."

Miri did incline her head in pleased acknowledgment. "Life in the Core has been boring, that's what it's been," she said, hooking her arm through Inara's to guide the other Companion into the building. "Unlike you, out there in the wild black empty, fending for yourself against the worst kind of adversity."

Inara laughed, leaning against the other woman's arm. "I've had help, Mi-Mi," she reminded the other woman. "It's not as if I've been all alone, with just my wits and a pen knife."

"It can't be much better than that, if you're willing to give it up to be planetside again."

Inara sighed, resting her temple on the curve of her friend's shoulder. "It's... complicated," she said. "I just need some breathing room."

Miri patted her hand sympathetically. "Lucky for you, we've got that in spades."

When Wash went to find Kaylee in the engine room, he expected he might find River as well. The two girls spent a lot of their free time together, and since Kaylee was in love with Serenity's engine in a way that sometimes bordered on disturbing, they spent most of that time in the engine room.

What he hadn't expected to find was a fashion show.

Kaylee and River were dressed in what looked like a pair of Inara's dresses. Their eyes were shadowed and outlined and highlighted until they smoldered. Kaylee's normally rosy complexion was virtually glowing with the addition of some bronzer on her cheeks and a warm shimmer of tinted lip gloss. River's normally unruly hair had been brushed until it gleamed and hung down her back like a black silk curtain. The only makeup she wore besides what was around her eyes was a touch of clear gloss on her lips.

"I'm sorry," Wash said as he paused in the doorway, blinking and rubbing at his eyes with one hand as if they were a mirage, in the other he held an empty bottle. "Am I supposed to pay an entry fee?"

The two girls exchanged glances and grinned at him. "What do y'think, Wash?" Kaylee asked, turning a circle, arms held out to the sides in regal fashion. Her dress was apple green and hugged her curves. "How do I look?"

"And me?" River asked eagerly, spinning around ballerina style. Unlike Kaylee's gown, River's dress was pale violet, with white rosebuds embroidered on the bodice and a long, flowing skirt that curled around her legs as she spun.

"Sorry, what?" Wash asked, blinking back and forth between them. "I was distracted by all the pretty."

Kaylee and River both laughed again. "We’re playing dress up," River proclaimed.

"Inara let us borrow some of her clothes 'fore she left," Kaylee explained, beaming. "Said we could pick any ones we wanted. Said we needed somethin' pretty to go with our new shoes."

"They never let me play dress-up anymore," Wash pouted.

Both girls giggled at that and tugged up the hems of their dresses, each extending a foot to show off their shoes. Wash recognized Kaylee's fake Francesco Chans as ones he'd considered appropriating for Zoe to wear before settling on the patent leather pumps.

"Aww, you little thieves, you!" he cooed, reaching out to pinch their cheeks. "How'd you manage to talk our big, bad captain into letting you each have a pair? Zoe said he wouldn't let us have any."

Kaylee winked at him. "'Cause we didn't tell 'im," she announced proudly.

River nodded solemnly. "What the captain does not know won't hurt him."

"So you just... went around Mal?" Wash asked earnestly.

Kaylee shrugged. "Sure," she replied, as River began pirouetting around the engine. Wash wondered how she could do that in heels. "Not like it's anything special. Just a pair o' shoes."

"Two pairs," River corrected, doing a high kick to the side.

"Two pairs," Kaylee admitted.

"Each."

"River!" Kaylee shushed her friend, blushing deeply and darting her eyes in Wash's direction.

"Oh, fear not, my little thieving friends," Wash said, holding up his hands and winking at them. "I promise I won't tell."

"Wash likes shoes," River stated plainly, mid-pliée. "He likes the way they make Zoe's legs look."

Wash grinned broadly. "Yes, yes I do. Who wouldn't? These are damn fine shoes, too. Really nice! I'm not looking forward to putting them back." He shrugged. "But Zoe said I had to; can't have the captain's wrath on me any more than usual." He gave an exasperated sigh.

Kaylee sobered at that. "You won't tell him, will you Wash?"

Wash put his hand over his heart. "I swear by the grave of my sainted Aunt Betsy."

"You don't have an Aunt Betsy," River said matter-of-factly.

"Eh. Semantics." Wash made a flippant hand gesture. "But you two should be a bit more discreet about your pilfered cargo, at least until the deal's been made and we're off this craggy moon." He turned to go, but then remembered why he'd come. "Oh, hey Kaylee?" He waved the empty bottle he’d been holding in his hand expressively. The younger girl merely grinned at him and waved him towards her homemade still.

"Earl Grey or green?"

"Green, please."

Miri smiled and nodded, gracefully filling Inara's teacup with fragrant green tea. "I don't know why I ask," she mused, taking a seat across from her friend and raising her own teacup. "Whenever you have a choice, you always choose green tea."

Inara grinned, lifted her cup delicately and took a sip. "It's proper protocol to ask. Besides, you never know. I haven't seen you in ages: things might have changed."

"Not with you, Inara. You're as steady as a rock."

Inara sighed, gazing down into her tea. "I'm glad one of us thinks so," she murmured, idly swirling the liquid until it came dangerously close to overflowing. That was how she felt -- a swirling vortex barely constrained by a porcelain shell. She wondered when her thoughts had become so apocalyptic. Was it after she'd met Mal? She had an unpleasant feeling they'd actually begun before she'd ever set foot on Serenity.

"Deep thoughts?"

Inara looked up from her tea to find Miri smiling at her, one elegant eyebrow raised in amusement. Smiling, slightly embarrassed, Inara nodded. "I was just thinking about why I left all this in the first place," she explained, setting her teacup down in an attempt to stave off further distraction.

"And?"

"And I'm wondering if I really want to come back to it."

Miri leaned forward, setting down her own tea, and reached across the low table to take Inara's hands between her own. "You belong here, Inara," she said, giving her friend's hands an encouraging squeeze. "You always have. It's in your blood. Your mother would agree with me, if she were here to say it"

Inara sighed heavily at the mention of her mother. "But that's just it, Miri," she explained. "She is here. Epoline Serra is everywhere I go. Sometimes it's like I can even see her in the mirror."

"She is one of the most celebrated Companions of all time, Inara. Surely you take pride in that." The other Companion sounded vaguely scandalized; but then, Miri had always been devoted to Epoline. It was one of the few things Inara could find fault with in her friend, though truthfully she couldn't blame the other woman; everyone idolized Epoline.

Almost everyone.

"I do," Inara concurred quickly, but then let out a deep sigh. She was sighing far too much and knew it was unbecoming of her. "I truly do. But she left deep footsteps for me to follow, down very structured paths, and I'm not sure I'm willing to fill those footsteps or follow those paths." Or still call her my mother, she thought ruefully.

Miri sat back. "Is this about becoming Guild Mistress?"

Inara didn't answer. Her silence said more than enough.

Miri nodded, and stood in one fluid motion. "There's no denying it's always been your birthright," she said, gliding away from the sitting nook to stand by the window and gaze out over the grounds. "Ever since Epoline Serra gave birth to a daughter, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that you would one day inherit administration of the Guild. The voting would just be window dressing." Inara could sense a hint of something in the other woman's voice. It sounded a bit like envy.

"It was never something I asked for, Mi-Mi," she explained softly.

"Nonetheless, that's how it stands." Miri gazed back at her, face a blank mask. "You have supporters, you know."

Inara looked up sharply. "What?"

"People who would endorse you for the position," Miri clarified. "Even when you left, the voices in support of you never wavered. A few have faded out as time passed, but only because they've all been gradually replaced with new faces, and fresh voices. But your favorable rating is still remarkable. If you were to put your name forward to become Mistress, I can say with some certainty you'd win."

"Against whom?" Inara asked, half laughing, because it was just ridiculous to imagine herself in that position. "Empty air? My mother? You said it yourself, Miri. I've been fending for myself out in the black. I've consorted with thieves. I'm hardly a pillar of virtue." In her head she heard Mal's voice: Can a Companion be a pillar of virtue?

"That means nothing," Miri said with a dismissive toss of her hand. "You know how it works, Inara. It's all about blood and reputation, and when worse comes to worst, blood trumps reputation every time." She laughed. "How else do you explain the men and women we consort with? Rich fools and imbeciles, the lot of them. But they have the power because of their name. A name has more weight on the scale of human dynamics than any number of deeds. It's the way the 'verse works." Again, her tone was bitter; almost biting. Perhaps spending so much time in the Core hadn't been good for her after all.

Inara shook her head. "I don't know why we're discussing this, Mi-Mi," she said, standing and walking away from the sitting area, turning her back to Miri and the window. She needed to move around, clear her head. "I don't want the position and I never have. My mother's welcome to it, and then the cards can fall as they will." She rubbed her temples. "That's why I left in the first place. I couldn't stand the politics." That was at least partially true; it had been one reason.

A moment passed, and then she felt comforting arms wrap around her waist from behind. "I'm sorry," Miri said near her ear, and Inara closed her eyes, letting herself lean back against her friend. "I just thought you should know."

"I know," Inara murmured, as Miri combed soothing fingers through her hair. "Thank you."

"It isn't as bad as you may think," the other Companion assured her. "These Border World Houses are still fairly low key. You could come here and stay relatively off the radar."

"Let me think about it, Miri."

"Take all the time you need, mei-mei."

Inara managed a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. In front of her she could see the desert through the floor-to-ceiling window. A tumbleweed went spiraling across the sand, echoing her turbulent thoughts. She was looking for a new beginning, but she couldn't shake the feeling that all the loose ends from her past were coalescing right here, in this moment in time. It made her want to run away again, cowardly though it seemed.

But where was she supposed to run? Back to Serenity? How could she do that, when Malcolm Reynolds was the largest loose end of them all?

Heckle held one blue stiletto up, examining it closely. The rhinestones on the strap sparkled in the light that filtered through the four-paned windows, throwing rainbows across the room. "I still don't know. They don't look right to me." His eyes narrowed, looking to Simon. "Something about this smells fishy."

Simon glanced at Jayne, but the mercenary kept his mouth shut. Mal had said not to talk, and he wasn't going to be blamed for this job going south because he couldn't hold up his end of the deal. Besides, it was fun watching Simon sweat.

The doctor swallowed and turned back to Heckle. "And what fault, precisely, have you to find?" he asked in his snootiest Core voice. Jayne thought it fit him real well. "I assure you, these are one hundred percent legitimate. Mr. Chan would be most offended to hear that his merchandise had been questioned by," he paused, seeming to choose his words carefully, "a man of your station."

Jayne could barely keep himself from laughing. He knew exactly what Simon wanted to say; he clearly disliked the oily little man as much as Jayne did. Simon shot him a death glare, but he just smirked back. Just because Simon got to play the boss didn't mean he actually was. Jayne glanced over to make sure Heckle was still engrossed in the shoe, and mouthed 'chain of command' to Simon.

Simon narrowed his eyes and a slow smile spread across his face. It broadened, and Jayne felt a little nervous. He wasn't sure what Simon had planned, but he knew he couldn't do much to stop him, not if he wanted to get paid.

Heckle carefully placed the shoe back in the box. "My son's been to the Core and back; he'll be able to give me his opinion. You'll meet him at dinner. I won’t be able to attend, unfortunately - prior engagement - but you should get along well, assuming you're really from Osiris like you say," the mayor added, suspicions returning. Then, with a brighter look, "But I certainly don't wish to upset Mr. Chan by questioning his products. I'm sure he'd be pleased to know I was on the lookout for counterfeit merchandise, though." He smiled generously, obviously thinking his dutiful spirit would endear him to Mr. Chan's duly selected representatives.

It didn't.

Jayne watched as Simon smiled at the mayor. "Dinner sounds fabulous. It would be such a trial trying to find food in any of the local establishments around here. I prefer to not have to pick buckshot out of my filet mignon. I've met more than enough of these Border and Rim types to know they aren't my kind of people. Not our kind of people," he added with a wink to the mayor, who winked back in return. "This one has barely enough brains to make a decent body guard," the doctor noted, nodding towards Jayne.

Heckle laughed. "Don't I know it! I sent my boy out to the Core to get him a decent education, since there's nothing here." He glanced at Jayne, then lowered his voice so the mercenary could barely hear him. "Plus, he just, uh, doesn't fit in around Nickelcreek - he’s too fancy and educated for the folks ‘round here. People think he’s stuck up. You should get along well."

Jayne snorted at that, and quickly covered it up with a cough as the two men turned to look at him. "Sorry, jus' got some," he coughed again, "dust in my mouth."

"It is a bit dry in here," Simon agreed smoothly. "Perhaps Sue could have a glass of water?" Jayne nodded vigorously, agreeing with Simon before it occurred to him that Simon had just called him Sue. The Doc was a dead man.

Inara spent the next hour exploring the grounds. Miri showed her the particular points of interest and then let her wander on her own, for which Inara was eternally grateful. She needed time alone with her thoughts.

She couldn't go back to Serenity, that was a given. Things between herself and Mal had become too strained. What did she feel for him? More importantly, what did he feel for her? She'd been trained to control her emotions, but Mal had no such background. He hid them well enough, but they were there nonetheless, shifting beneath the surface like tectonic plates. It didn't take a Reader to know what he was feeling at any given moment; all she had to do was look into his eyes. Inara tried to avoid his eyes now and had done so ever since Nandi. There was too much written there for her to read and she couldn't deny being afraid that she'd look into his eyes and find... nothing. Somehow, seeing apathy in Mal's eyes would be more painful than seeing anger.

When had that happened? When had she begun to let herself feel anything but professionalism towards this vagabond captain? He was an insufferable hothead, and rude on top of that. He'd been a Browncoat; she'd supported Unification. He spent his life on the wrong side of the law; she was the picture of respectability. Or she had been once, before she'd gotten tangled up in his band of misfits. All in all, her entire life had been turned on its ear when she'd agreed to rent his shuttle, and honestly, did the benefits really outweigh the costs?

There was friendship, and freedom, and late night girl talks with Kaylee.

But there was also suspicion, and confusion, and screaming matches that left her tired and shaky. What right did Mal have to question her actions anyway? What right did he have to try and play the knight in shining armor, especially when he didn't even see her as a princess? She was nothing to him: a painted lady; a whore.

She'd been born to be a Companion; her mother would never have allowed anything else. Inara had never thought she could be anything else. She had always been proud of what she was, but when Mal called her a whore she hardly took it as an insult anymore. One of the core tenets of Companionhood was that a Companion wasn't a whore, and should never suffer herself to be called one. But she took it from him and didn't mind; she'd ceased minding long ago. It was almost an endearment between them. What did it say about him, that he could toss aside her beliefs so easily?

What did it say about her?

She'd grown up surrounded by women, knowing who she was. A simple act of rebellion had brought her to Serenity; in a little over a year under the stewardship of an irascible captain, she was questioning everything she'd ever learned. It was terrifying.

She found Miri at Buddha's altar, lighting a stick of incense under the statue's watchful eye. It was a tranquil scene; a haven of serenity.

"Mei-mei? " Miri asked upon catching sight of Inara hovering in the doorway. "Do you need something?"

Inara managed a shaky smile, and this time it touched her eyes. "I think I want to come home," she whispered.

Miri gazed at her for a moment, then smiled in return. "You already are."

Continue to part four