“How...” Mal murmured. “How long has he been gone?” Taking Mal’s hand into hers, Inara gave him a sad smile. The immunoboosters weren’t as fast-acting with Mal as Simon had hoped, and so he was still on a healthy dose of painkiller. Thus, Mal had no concept of time. “Two weeks,” she replied. “We fixed up Serenity as best we could, and we’ve been trying to track the Reaver ship.” Mal closed his eyes. “*Two weeks,*” he whispered, and Inara thought he was about to cry. He did not. Instead, he opened his eyes again and stared at Inara. “I guess we can write Gab off as a loss then, huh?” Vehemently, Inara shook her head. “Never. Knowing Gabriel, he probably killed all of the Reavers and is piloting the ship himself.” Mal started to smile, but it didn’t take. “Yer lyin’ to me, Inara,” he decided. “Unless he got medical treatment right quick...” He cleared his throat. “Never mind that. Keep...” He rubbed his face sleepily with his good arm. “Are ya lyin’ to me, Inara?” Placing a palm gently on Mal’s forehead, Inara leaned in and kissed him slowly. “*That was no lie,*” she breathed as she finally pulled away. Mal grinned. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ fer that.” Inara did it again, more fiercely this time. “How about that?” Mal arched an eyebrow. “Somethin’s itchin’ at me ‘bout that not bein’ a Companion kiss.” Inara nodded. “It was an Inara kiss.” Mal nodded. “I’ll bet it was the best kiss you ever gave.” Inara had no reply for that. There were long moments of silence with Mal laying on the table and Inara holding his hand. “Do you wanna talk about it, Inara?” Inara sighed, then shook her head. “I don’t know... I never have before.” “You told me,” Mal reminded. “Though I don’t remember a lot of it. Chase? Was that his name?” “Chance,” Inara corrected. “He... was a Browncoat. But I still loved him.” Mal nodded. “An’ ya turned him in when he told ya he was plannin’ a Sihnon revolution.” Inara released Mal’s hands and placed them in her lap as her shoulders sagged. “Yes,” she muttered. “He coulda lived, Inara,” Mal pointed out. “You turned him in... He tried to fight back when they tried to arrest him.” “*Yes,*” Inara whispered. “But if he hadn’t resisted, he’d still be alive. Right?” Inara shrugged. “Maybe.” Mal nodded. “I woulda fought back, too. That would make *me* dead. Eitherwise, it ain’t yer fault he’s dead, only that he got caught.” He reached his good hand out to grasp hers. “Ya ran off all the way out here to beat yerself up for no reason, Inara.” Inara stared at the floor. “Mal... the Guild might revoke my license.” Mal frowned. “What? What for?” Inara glanced up at him. “I thought you’d sound more thrilled.” “What for?” Mal repeated. Inara shrugged. “I’ve been pulling a lot of strings to try and find Gabriel’s Reaver ship. I think I may have upset a few of the wrong people.” “But...” Mal stammered. “But only the Guild has the authority to-” “The Guild owes as many people favors as they have favors owed to them,” Inara explained. She smiled a little. “Guess it’s too late to become a petty crook?” Mal chuckled, just softly enough that it wasn’t too painful for him to bear. “I thought we struck a bargain about yer whorin’ an’ my thievin’.” Inara shook her head. “I don’t remember... did we?” “Sounds familiar...” Mal dismissed it. “Don’t matter. I ain’t doin’ a lot of thievin’ right now, anyway.” “Nor I with whoring.” Mal smiled and squeezed Inara’s hands. “Then I guess we’re at a bit of a crossroads, ain’t we?” *************************************************************************

After applying the salve, Gabriel carefully rewrapped his hands in fresh gauze. He glanced around the laboratory that was becoming all-too-familiar to him and sighed. *I’m so ruttin’ bored.* He’d been working it through in his head the entire time he’d been aboard. It was a medical research ship, and it was very large. Aboard the Reaver ship, he’d been fading in and out of consciousness for some time. One instant, he was chained to his beam, and the next, he was laying on the ground aboard this vessel. Those earliest memories consisted mostly of trying to stand as Reavers ran all around, grabbing crew members. By the time Gabriel was able to sit up, all of the people were either dead or taken. One of the remaining Reavers, presumably the one who had tried to untie him before, stopped before him on its way back to its own ship. “Miranda,” it had stated, eyeing him, and moved on. Gabriel still couldn’t figure out why they’d left him behind. Gabriel had scoured every inch of the ship as soon as he was recovered well-enough to explore. The great thing about being stranded on a medical research vessel was that there was no shortage of medical supplies or immunoboosters. The engines had been ripped from the ship by magnetic grapplers, rendering it immobile. However, the hull was still sealed, and Gabriel had found enough food stores and water to last him for months. *Figure, crew of forty... An’ I’m only one here...* Gabriel made his way toward the bridge. He’d had the distress beacon transmitting the entire time, but it was apparent that he was floating in a low-traffic area. Gabriel had been watching the cockpit closely, and so he was amazed to hear the crackling of a transmission from above. He rushed onto the bridge as best he could, limping toward the Comm. The face that appeared on the small screen made his heart sink into his stomach. “*Well,*” Dante greeted. “*How yeh doin’ over there, Gabe?*” “Been better,” Gabriel replied. “Seems I lost myself a crew.” “*Aww,*” Dante returned. “*Guess yeh ain’t got no back up then, yeah?*” “Yeah,” Gabriel admitted. “Just me, an’ I’m bungered in a bad way.” Dante shook his head. “*Like I said last time, Gabe. Yeh better not be hurt next time I catch up to yeh.*” Gabriel shrugged. “Sorry, Mate. I did my best.” Dante glanced off-screen for a moment, then returned his gaze to his camera. “Well... I wager I oughtta give yeh a bump, aye?” “Cuttin’ the crease both ways,” Gabriel mentioned. “At least over here, ya ain’t tryin’ to gut me.” Dante grinned his vicious grin. “*Don’t look like yeh got much choice in the matter, do yeh?*” *************************************************************************

As the airlock doors slid open, Gabriel forced himself to stand upright. *Gotta maintain the appearance.* “Welcome aboard,” he greeted. Followed by a young, red-haired woman, Dante stalked into the corridor and stopped. Never once glancing about his surroundings, Dante fixed his gaze evilly upon Gabriel and flashed his scar-split grin. “Good to see yeh again.” “Wish I could say the same,” Gabriel returned, holding his position on shaky feet. “Ya here to give me a lift?” Dante shrugged. “Don’t know. Should I?” Ignoring the question, Gabriel glanced past Dante and toward the woman. “Since when do you keep the company of *living* human beings?” The woman stepped up beside Dante. “I’m here for Reynolds.” Gabriel cocked his head. “Oh, you are, are ya? An’ whaddaya want with him?” The woman frowned. “I want him dead,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “I’m his wife.” “Huh.” Gabriel crossed his arms. “Makes sense in my little corner of the world.” He returned his gaze to Dante, instantly dismissing the girl. “So... Now, what?” Dante shrugged. “I dunno, Gabe. That depends on you.” He looked the younger man up and down. “I don’t s’pose yeh got the constitution to give me a good fight, anyhow?” Gabriel shrugged. “Never hurts to find out. Not much, anyhow...” Dante had crossed the distance between them in a second, lashing out with an open palm. Gabriel went flying backwards, slamming into a bulkhead and collapsing to the ground. “Wow,” Dante admonished. “That was pathetic. They’d be proud of yeh.” “Better’n what they’d think of you, Dante,” Gabriel spat back, and a bit of blood was spat along with the words. “What the hell did Foster do to you, anyway?” Dante puffed out his chest, standing tall and proud. “He perfected me, is what he did.” Dante ticked twice, his grin never wavering. “Yer in sore shape, Gabe. Think I might hafta give yeh one last chance.” “Don’t worry about it,” Gabriel croaked, forcing himself to his feet. He rushed Dante again, and again, was knocked senseless. “Give it up, Kid,” Dante warned. “I’ll be back for yeh when yer up to it.” Gabriel dragged himself up to his knees. He took a head-first step forward and collapsed to the deck. “I’ll make it more interestin’ this time,” Dante decided, entering the bridge. There were the sounds of paneling being crushed and wiring being torn, and a moment later, Dante was standing at Gabriel’s head again. “Yer beacon’s gone,” the big man informed. “Yeh know yeh ain’t too hard fer me to find, by now.” “Are we leaving?” the Mal’s wife-woman inquired. “Yer a disgrace to the name, Dante,” Gabriel mumbled into the floor. “We’ll meet again,” Dante stated. “An’ it’ll be the last time, yeh can be sure of that.” Gabriel was alone again on the derelict ship, his face pressed against the grate. *Back to stage one,* he thought wryly. *************************************************************************

“Hey, you,” Kaylee spoke softly, moving up behind her fiancee as he rearranged bottles in his cabinet. “Hey, Kaylee,” Simon replied absently, intent on his task. There was a distant, distressed tone to his voice. Kaylee grasped Simon by his shoulders and turned him around to face her. “Talk to me, Mister,” she ordered. “Kaylee...” Simon murmured, glancing to the floor. He blew out a breath, and his head came back up. “...I just don't know what to do.” “Simon,” Kaylee soothed as she reached for him, “you always know what to do.” “I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!” Simon screamed in her face. Kaylee recoiled very quickly, but the look she gave him was not of anger, nor was it fear of him. It was fear *for* him, and that concern and understanding both broke and melted his heart. “...Simon...?” His fairly broad chest heaving, tears welling in his eyes, Simon slammed the heels of both hands into his forehead. “Kaylee...” He gasped several more breaths before forcing his breathing to settle. “Kaylee, I'm sorry. I just...” Slowly, Kaylee extended her hand, palm toward the ceiling, and Simon took it. “Talk to me.” Simon gently squeezed his love's hand. “I must be a terrible, soulless person,” he told her. “Gabriel is either dead or in the clutches of the Reavers, probably being turned *into* one of them, and the only thing I can think of is, ‘We need Gabriel back so that I can begin his medication and make him better’.” He put his other hand behind her right shoulder blade. “I’m more of a doctor than I am a human being.” Kaylee blinked, then shook her head. “That’s nonsense, Bao bei. That... that makes no sense at all!” She forced Simon into a hug, and she didn’t have to force very hard. “Simon, yer worryin’ on somethin’ that just don’t matter. You know we need Gab back before you can even think about fixin’ him. Nobody needs to tell you that.” “I know,” Simon murmured, his chin on Kaylee’s shoulder. “You be a human being for now,” Kaylee told him. “Gab’s comin’ back safe an’ sound, an’ *then,* you can be a doctor. Deal?” Simon smiled. “Deal.” *************************************************************************

Zoe stared at the stars outside Serenity’s brand-new windows. Again, her thoughts wandered to the centuries-old film she’d seen as a teenager. *I’m sure, hundreds of years from now, folks’ll pick fun at the entertainment we got today.* Zoe glanced over her shoulder at River, who sat in the pilot seat. River had been a zombie ever since her initial breakdown. The loss of Gabriel had hit her very, very hard. Mostly, she sat around, staring at nothing, and was unresponsive to attempts at conversation. *I know what it’s like to lose the man you love to Reavers,* she thought to herself, knowing full well that River could hear her, but thinking it to herself, anyway. *There is nothing worse in the ‘Verse.* River began to cry. It wasn’t the hysterical, uncontrollable bawling that she usually exhibited in the past. This was a soft, muffled, heartbreaking cry. This was the way a normal person would cry. Choking back tears, Zoe moved to comfort the girl. “I know, Baby,” she soothed, wrapping her arms around River from behind. “I know. He could still be alive, though. You have to hold onto that hope.” “Why?” River croaked. “Why hope?” “Because,” Zoe replied, “Hope is sometimes the only thing that can keep us going.” It took several more moments of crying before River could find her voice again. “One of the...” She swallowed. “One of the first conversations I ever had with Gabriel...” She had to pause, yet again, to clear her throat. “...He said to never get my hopes up about anything. That way, I’d never have to worry about being disappointed.” Zoe smiled sadly. “Honey, that’s because Gabriel reads a lot. He reads the *wrong* books.” River giggled a bit. “Yeah, I don’t think he believes that anymore, anyway.” Then, she sighed sadly. “Do you really think there’s a chance?” Zoe looked over River’s head and back at the stars. “I guarantee it.” The console bleeped, and both women stiffened. River began to scan the controls, then froze. She began to tremble. “It’s *him!*” she exclaimed. The small vessel approaching blew right past the Firefly without even slowing down. “Who is it?” Zoe urged. “Who?” “Dante,” River murmured. Then, she leaped from her seat, spinning to jump Zoe. “Gabriel!!” she shouted. “He’s alive! He’s alive!” Elated, she burst into a string of excited babbling and laughter. “Where?!??” Zoe demanded. “Where is he?!” River pointed out the window at a spot in the black. “There.”