Part Two

Simon lay on the bed, stretched out beside Mal. He'd given up any hope of maintaining a proper distance as his fever rose and made the simple effort of sitting up nearly impossible. He couldn't help wondering how the others were getting on. Zoe had called in a few times, but not in several hours. He supposed they were all in the mine now. His brain was inundated with images of River crawling somewhere she shouldn't and getting trapped. Were there even emergency services on this godforsaken planet? He turned his pillow over irritably, seeking a cool spot.

Mal rolled over to face him. His eyes were open now, but still fever-bright and far from lucid. "She said," he choked out, interrupted by a coughing fit. "Not her brother, Alliance. And I saw. Saw the uniform. I saw it, Doc, and it fit you perfect..."

Simon swallowed painfully, taken aback. Was this what Mal had been rambling about? "Captain...I...no! You know that isn't true. Please, you're very ill. You need to rest..." Simon laid his hand on Mal's forehead, worried at how high the fever was climbing. "Here, I'll give you something..." He began fumbling in his med kit for something to bring the fever down.

"Don't want nothin'," Mal said, his voice getting louder despite his cough. "Don't know what it might be… Trick me, make me change…"

Frustrated, Simon finally managed to locate a syringe in his bag. He was steadily feeling worse, and the captain's current condition was not helping in the slightest. "I'm not going to trick you," he said loudly, filling the syringe. "All I'm going to do is give you something to break your fever. You're delirious, you're not making any sense…"

But before he could move to do anything for Mal, the captain had risen in a sudden display of strength and punched Simon square in the jaw. The doctor crumpled instantly to the floor, too unsteady from his illness to keep his feet.

"That's what you tell her?" Mal said hoarsely, standing over Simon, clutching his side. "So she don't remember the truth? You keep lyin', keep pretendin'…"

Simon groaned, clutching his injured face. "Her? You mean - you mean River?"

"You know what you done to her..." Mal managed through gritted teeth before collapsing back on the bed.

Simon didn't move towards him, not feeling much like being punched again. "I love River," he whispered. "I would never hurt her, never betray her. They hurt her, and sometimes she's confused. But I would die for her."

"Yeah, well." Mal closed his eyes. "I wouldn't," he mumbled.

Simon's jaw tightened. And he'd always known that, hadn't he? That he and River were essentially alone? That he was the only one who would truly take care of her? It wasn't anything new, despite the fresh pain that spread through his chest at the thought.

Mal was quieter now, and Simon raised himself up and gave him the injection, then stumbled to the sink to dampen a face cloth for his brow. He was, for the moment, doctor first, protective brother second. But it was becoming clearer than ever before that Serenity was not his and River's home and one day they would have to leave, just as the Shepherd and Inara had.

"Gorramit," Jayne groaned, lowering himself to the ground and stretching out his legs. It was night, and that meant a bit of rest. He, Zoe and Wash had been shifting ore since the confrontation with the other crew and he had to admit that he was plenty sore. Pulling out the box of cigars he'd managed to track down on Boros, he brought one to his lips and lit it, slowly inhaling and exhaling the smoke into the cool night air.

Looking over at him, Kaylee wrinkled her nose. She had dirt and soot in her hair and a smudge of grime on her cheek. "You look exhausted. And dirty."

Clenching the cigar between his teeth, he chuckled wickedly. "Bit sore, too. Might need you to give me a rubdown, seein' as you're so good with your hands."

Kaylee made a little face, giggling to hide her discomfort. "Bet you wouldn't ask Zoe that."

"Bet I wouldn't," he said under his breath.

Zoe poked her head out. "Come on. Need to finish clearing up for the day. Don't wanna leave our equipment in who knows which section so we never find it again."

"Aw, hell, Zoe," Jayne muttered. He felt as though he'd never stand again. They'd worked a fourteen-hour day already.

She looked him over. "You stay put, then. We can get this stuff out ourselves." She was plenty tired herself, of course, but she was all right so long as she kept moving. With Kaylee behind her, she disappeared back into the mine, leaving Jayne with his cigar and the cool evening air.

"Tired already?" An unfamiliar voice cut through the silence.

Jayne looked up, confused. He could vaguely make out a shadowy figure in the darkness. "Who's there?"

The shape stepped forward and Jayne groaned. "Oh, it's you."

It was one Captain Scott's crew, the tall black man, Rafe. He raised an eyebrow at Jayne. "Seems to me you should be doin' a little less smokin' a little bit more workin'."

"Someone make you my captain and not tell me?" Jayne stubbed out his cigar, irritated. "Fourteen hours of heavin' copper 'round tends to take it out of a man, y'know? 'Sides, I don't see you doin' much of anythin'. 'Cept for settin' explosives to blow up our mine, o' course."

Rafe just laughed. "Our crew's been working hard all day. Just takin' a break."

"Spyin' 'round our mine, more like," the mercenary jeered.

"Don't think we have any need for that, really," Rafe replied casually. "Seein' as only a few of your crew seem to be doin' any of the heavy stuff."

Jayne stood. "'Scuse me?" he asked, twitching angrily.

"Your girls don't seem to have what it takes, do they?" Rafe sneered. "The two little ones. What have they been doin' all day? Braidin' each other's hair?" He paused. "Fine lookin' girls, too. Look like they could use a real man to teach them a thing or two," he leered.

Now a man could jeer at River all he liked, especially as River likely wouldn't have a clue or be bothered about it, but little Kaylee was off limits, something the captain had made very clear to Jayne a long time ago, and Jayne, through some of the little sensitivity he possessed, had come to understand for himself.

Jayne pulled his knife from its sheath in a quick, angry movement. "You got somethin' to say 'bout them girls?"

Rafe laughed softly, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Hell, no concern of mine if a man wants to wear himself out for no good reason. Our crew runs fair. Everyone works--guess yours are just a mite dainty for that?" His knife was out. "Or maybe they're not so dainty. You afraid of someone gettin' a share of what you're scared to touch?"

That was more than Jayne's soul could bear, and he flung himself at Rafe, his knife cutting a crimson line through the other mercenary's shirt.

Rafe swore loudly and darted forward, slashing at Jayne with his own knife. "You don't know who you're toyin' with," he seethed.

Jayne took advantage of the man's rage and moved quickly to the side, but his fatigue slowed him some, and he received a shallow, long cut across his arm. Turning heavily, he threw out his arm again, slicing his weapon through the air and connecting once more with flesh. "Same goes for you," he spat, pulling back and breathing hard before moving to strike once more.

"Hey! What in the hell is going on here?" Captain Scott strode briskly through the darkness, Sarah in tow, and glared from one man to the other.

Upon seeing his captain, Rafe instantly drew back and sheathed his knife. His blood dotted the ground in front of him. "Just takin' care of some business, sir," he replied.

"You take care of business in the mine," the captain ordered, his face hard. "No time for playing around like this."

Jayne didn't imagine the man would be saying precisely that if Rafe had gotten the better of him, but it was about time they learned Serenity's crew weren't to be played with. He watched, his hand pressed to his bleeding arm, breathing heavily.

Sarah darted forward, pulling a rather grubby handkerchief out of her pocket. "Oh, that looks nasty." To Jayne's surprise, she pressed the handkerchief to his arm. "Here. Keep it tight there," she said, with a little, hesitant smile.

Rafe grabbed her by the arm, his face set in a scowl. "You leave that alone and get back to work. Think we're gonna get ahead with you hangin' around playin' nurse?" He shoved her roughly back in the direction of their crew's mine.

Jayne snarled, hurling himself at Rafe again, because you didn't treat girls that way, even if they were kind of useless. No man who was a man laid hands on a woman that way, unless they liked it, which was a different matter altogether.

"Jayne!" Zoe hurried up out of the mine, Wash in tow. She darted in front of the mercenary, halting him in his attack. "Gentleman," she addressed Rafe and Captain Scott. "You adding violence to your bag o' tricks, now? Can't say I'm altogether surprised."

"Never mind that it was your man here," Rafe jerked a finger at Jayne, who glowered back, "who attacked me first."

Zoe, satisfied that Jayne would stay put for now, stepped back and raised an eyebrow. "Can't say I've ever seen Jayne attack a man for no good reason. I'm guessing he was provoked."

Captain Scott shot Rafe a look, who fell silent.

"So sorry to disturb all your hard work," the captain told them, giving Zoe a mock-bow. "We'll get out of your way and let you finish diggin' your ore. It'd be unprofessional o' me to say we've got a ton and a half so far, so I won't." With that, he grinned and swept away, Rafe in tow.

"Sarah, get goin'!" Rafe shouted angrily over his shoulder, and the young girl gave them all an apologetic look before scurrying off.

Jayne shook his head. "Think I'm gonna go rest up elsewhere," he muttered, and left, leaving Zoe and Wash alone.

Zoe bristled. "And you didn't want me to shoot 'em all," she pointed out to her husband.

Wash gave her a sympathetic look and wrapped his arm around her waist. "You know Mal wouldn't just shoot them all and shove them down the mine," he told her gently.

She leaned into him, then paused, looking sideways at him. "He wouldn't?"

"No," he told her firmly, grinning a little. "Remember how you're the amoral one and he makes the difficult choices not to kill people?"

Zoe looked uncomfortable at that mention of her morals, something that had been weighing just a little on her mind since the visit to Santo. "Yeah. Funny how those hard decisions always do seem to be the ones that tend to get us shot at, though."

"All the same," Wash said, holding her close. "It's gonna be okay, babe. You'll see."

"All right." Kaylee bounced on the hammock a little, making sure it was hung up properly and wouldn't collapse in the middle of the night. "There, that'll be perfect."

"Shouldn't steal your bed," River murmured, though she sat cross-legged on it.

"Well, you're the guest," Kaylee insisted. "Anyhow, I sleep in the hammock 's many nights as not, in case Serenity has a hiccup. Ain't no trouble for me." She stretched wearily. "Y'know, wheelbarrows look easy, but they ain't, so much."

River nodded, surveying the many scrapes and bruises on her bare arms. "I don't think I'd select it," she said thoughtfully. "As a career. Simon wouldn't like it, anyway," she said with a little smile to hide the worry she was feeling about her brother.

Kaylee reached over to her bag and pulled out a brush. "Turn your back to me," she instructed. "I'll brush your hair, make it nice and pretty, like 'Nara used to do."

River did as she was told and relaxed as Kaylee began to run the brush gently through the tangles in her dark hair. "You're thinking about Simon," she said simply.

Kaylee sighed loudly as she brushed. "I'm just - I'm just so worried about him! And the cap'n, o' course," she added hastily.

"They'll be okay," River promised her friend, then paused. "Been worried, though. Speaking in tongues, saying bad things… They're going to a dark place."

Kaylee abruptly stopped brushing. "A dark place?" she asked, scared. "You don't mean--"

"...Not dying," River assured her. "Something different." She turned and took the brush from Kaylee's hand. "Here." With an unwonted gentleness, she began brushing Kaylee's hair, smoothing it out. "Simon will make them both well. You know that. He can heal wounds and reattach appendages, and the simple fever will quail at his tread." Her voice was lilting and soothing, almost like a lullaby.

"What are they doing now?" Kaylee asked softly.

"Sleeping. Bodies producing antibodies, warrior hordes to cut down the invaders. Getting better," she promised.

Kaylee leaned into her touch just a little. "That's good. Sure do miss 'em."

"Yes," River said, not stopping her soothing motions. In an inaudible tone, she added, "So will I."

Jayne shoved his hands in his pockets and exhaled, noticing how his breath froze in the cold air. He had known that it would be the better part of freezing this late at night, which was why he'd protested in the first place, but this was just ridiculous.

Rubbing his hands together vigorously before shoving them deep in his pockets, he winced as the cool night wind stung at the fresh cut arm. Granted, it wasn't deep but it tingled something fierce. He hadn't thought to bring a jacket or anything to keep warm, thinking that the only kind of weather they'd endure at the mine would be heat, and lots of it. No one had ever told him that Paradiso was prone to chilly evenings and gusts of wind blowing through from the south.

"Blows out candles and kindles fires." A soft voice echoed from the darkness back to him.

He rolled his eyes. "'S'that you, Crazy? Surely someone's told you 'bout sneakin' up on people like that. Bit unsettling."

"Unsettling implies a relative state of resting comfort." River came closer and peered at him from the depths of the blanket she was swathed in. "You aren't comfortable."

"Yeah, an' whose fault's that?" he grumbled, not really spitefully, but to have something irritating to say.

She shook her head. "Unfit for our champion. Here. No gay favors, but warmer." She handed him a bundle of orange and yellow knitting.

"What the hell's this?" Jayne said, shaking it out. It looked like...hell, even she wasn't crazy enough to give him a shawl, was she?

"Small blanket? Cape?" she said, giggling just a little.

He glared at her. "It's a shawl, ain't it? Hell, I look like some little old lady to you?"

"Look cold. The shawl is warm, and it matches your hat."

He examined it. It was closely-knitted, and not out of socks like that crazy sweater she'd given the captain. "How'd you get the yarn, anyhow?" he demanded, pulling it around himself and hugging it close so that he looked rather like a very cross, very ugly old lady.

"Captain bought it to preserve the integrity of his footwear and improve quality of my output. On Charon." She held out a thermos. "Here. A disingenuous simulacrum of coffee." She smiled brightly as he took it, sniffing cautiously and beginning to drink. "It's black, like mud."

He stopped sipping momentarily. "But it ain't mud, right?"

River scrunched up her face a little. "No."

"Then I'm happy," Jayne told her. And continued to drink, his shawl wrapped tightly around him.

Continue to Part Three