Title: Tough

Rating: PG-13. For swearing (Firefly) and violence.

Characters: the whole crew, plus the Pirate Children and Alistair Caramia (the latter are mine, the rest are Joss's)

Pairings: Canon pairings. I will openly admit that I heavily, heavily favor Mal and Inara and the Reynolds Family. (Trying hard to rectify that without negatively affecting the storyline.)

Summary: Yet another Pirate Children story. Set twenty-eight years post-BDM. A not-so-fluffy (but still slightly fluffy) look at the future. Serenity's adjusting to her grown children.

Author's Note: A shorter chapter, but full of important action. One more chapter to go. I know some of you are a little put off by the reemergance of YoSafBridge, but I want to point out that it's not like she was stalking them for twenty-five years. This is more a crime of convenience. And as Serra said last chapter: "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

Part 4

“What is he doing?” Kacey asks, leaning against the wall next to Lolly up on the catwalk. The captain is staring at the sinking sun, occasionally pacing back and forth. “He and Aunt ‘Nara get in another fight?” While Mal and Inara’s fights, legendary among the crew, were once the subject of many jokes and laughs, everyone on Serenity has been taking them a little more seriously recently. Lolly just looks at him out of the corner of her eye, recrossing her arms over her chest, face on the border between hurt and contempt. “Aw, c’mon, Lol… You have to talk to me at some point. This is a small boat, and sooner or later you’re gonna have to ask me to pass the salt.” Lolly humphs a little and walks off. “Real grown up, Leila Lee!” “Really grown up,” a voice corrects behind him, teasing admonishment in her voice. “Please try to make it seem like I taught you something in the nearly twenty years I’ve been aboard. Otherwise you make me feel entirely useless.” “Hi, Ally,” Kacey greets his former tutor, and as Lolly and Serra so love to bring up, Abe’s and his first love. “I’ve heard the girls are none-too-pleased with you at the moment.” Kacey sighs and shrugs. “Don’t worry. I’ll soon take the attention away from you; I’m in the market to get off myself.” Kacey leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. “It can’t stay the same forever, no matter what Serra wants. It hasn’t been the same, especially since Abe went to Ariel. It’s not natural that we’re all still here.” “You don’t have to explain it to me,” Ally assures him. “Why are you still here, Al?” Ally smiles, lightly. “Where would I go, Kacey? Up until last year, I had a steady job and a family, all in the same place. Why would I leave?” “Once you’ve reached Serenity, you can never get out,” Kacey paraphrases his mother with a soft sigh. “That’s not exactly it. I care about you all, especially you, Lolly, and the Reynolds.” “And you’re still here because Serra’s gone off her rocker?” “The Mei-Mei is not crazy,” Ally laughs gently. “She and the captain are just trying to figure out what roles they’re playing now. It’s a power struggle. I’m still here because it’s hard to leave family.” “Mom and Dad want to leave, too. And Lolly says her parents could be close behind… It’s just time, you know?” “I don’t think it will ever be time for Serra or Mal. Their very idea of themselves is tied to Serenity. Pancakes to cheer you up?” Kacey grins. “I’m not seven any more.” “Which has no effect one whether or not pancakes will cheer you up.” “You’re bribing me with food.” “Very astute observation.”

***

“Getting your daily exercise in, Captain?” Wash smiles as he and Zoe walk up the ramp, interrupting Mal’s pacing. Mal grumbles in return. “Somethin’ wrong, sir?” Mal just grunts again, eyes on the position of the sun. Zoe and Wash climb the stairs after shared shrugs, finding Inara leaning against the railing, watching her husband. “What’s going on?” Wash asks., no longer quite so jovial. “Mal and Serra fought during the job,” Inara states. “She’s supposed to be back by sundown. He’s been pacing since the sun hit the tops of the buildings. How was your day?” “Not as exciting as yours,” Wash says, fairly disappointed. “Was there yelling? Did he turn red?” “I don’t know; it wasn’t here.” Inara looks caught between resignation and desolation. “Did you find anything interesting?” “Not on this rock,” Zoe sighs. “Still looking, though.” Inara nods, understanding, and the first mate senses a bit of panic in her eyes, a flash of “You’re leaving me alone? With this?” The sun gives a final heave before sinking beneath the horizon. Mal hops into the mule and peals off. Inara closes her eyes and sighs. “We should probably start dinner before we lift off.”

***

“Here’s your cut,” Serra says, handing over a bag of jingling coin in the same alleyway where they first met. She keeps her eyes on Saffron the whole time, waiting for the backstab. Saffron takes the bag daintily, setting it by her feet. Serra doesn’t take the bait. “You walk out first.” “And let you shoot me in the back? No way, honey.” “I have my money. Why would I kill you?” Saffron rolls her eyes. So much like her father. “We’ll both back away slowly. And you keep that hand off that pistol.” Canvas bag slung across her back, Serra begins to back up towards the main road, eyes still on Saffron, hands obviously away from her hip.. “There you are,” a voice shakes her concentration, a hand landing on her shoulder roughly. By the time she can look back down the alley, Saffron is gone. “What part of sundown don’t you understand?” “Gorramnit, Dad,” Serra curses, twisting out from under her father’s grip and turning her back to him, searching the surrounding area for any sign of Saffron. Mal feels the bag on her back, feels its weight. “Where the hell did you get this? You know what? I don’t even want to know right now. Get your pi gu into the mule. We’ll talk about it once we’re in the air.” “Dad, wait. We have to talk… We can’t go right back.” “We have to. A schedule, remember?” “But Daddy…” “Bi zui.” Serra humphs a little, scanning the area around her as he zooms back toward Serenity. Saffron’s not going to let her get away with this much money.

***

“It’s terrible, Abe,” Inara sighs, viewing her son through the Cortex screen. The fuzziness of the screen doesn’t mask his attractiveness, full head of sandy brown hair and dark brown eyes, full lips that stretch into a charming smile, a self-assurance that has always been present but has full bloomed in his years on Ariel. “What’s happened now?” “They pretend like everything is like it was before, where they can bicker and be fine by dinner. But they are hurting each other deeper now, and…” “Covering a hole doesn’t make it go away,” Abe finishes, understanding. “They’ve never dealt with the original problem: they’re the same person at different points in life.” “Those psychiatry classes are doing you well. Ally will be proud,” Inara smiles sadly, missing him now more than ever, the little boy-turned-man who understands so much. “I don’t know how to help them.” “Lock them in a room until they’ve either killed each other of come to an agreement,” Abe grins wickedly. “I’m sorry, Mama. I really wish there was something I could do from here. I’ll talk to Serra next time I wave, but I have to go to class.” “Of course. Don’t let me keep you from your studies.” “I’ll call in a few days. Eila says hello, by the way.” “I’ll pass that along to Serra.” “Love you, Mama.” “Wo ai ni.” As she cuts the connection, she hears the whine of the mule and raised voices in the cargo hold.

***

“Daddy, if you’d just listen for a…” “No. I’m at my wits’ end with you today, Serra. We’re getting this boat in the air, and until then I don’t wanna hear anything from you, dong ma?” “But, it’s important…” “Maybe you should listen to her, Captain,” come a voice from the bottom of the ramp. Mal turns to see Saffron walking towards them, gun in hand. “Wo duh ma.” “Told you so.” “No talking!” “No wonder she’s rebellious, Mal… She’s your child, not your soldier. And drop the gun. I have an excellent shot lined up on your little girl. You, too, Serra. I’ve had enough of that gun today.” “Forgive me if I’m not quick to take parenting advice from you,” Mal shoots back, reluctantly dropping his sidearm to the ground, hopefully with a loud enough clank to get the attention of the rest of the crew. Serra follows suit, but not until after she shoots him a hateful glare. He shoots one right back at her. “So I’m guessin’ that’s how you got the money. Working with this piece of go se?” “Money’s money, and I was about to get away clean with it until you showed up and humped the whole thing up. I did the job, quick and clean, with a shiny penny to show for it. If you would’ve listened to me for a gorramn second I could’ve told you that she was aiming to take it all for her own and we wouldn’t be in this position.” “And if you weren’t so busy pitchin’ a hissy fit…” “Hissy fit?! I’m sorry, do you remember what you said to me?” “Nothin’ that weren’t true!” “Stop it,” Saffron says, bored. “Just hand over the money… And the mule for good measure. Compensation for my troubles.” “Excellent, Serra, thank you… This was just the end I needed to this day… Did you know that, one top of losing one pilot, I’m about to lose another, permanently. Yes, Serra, there are things more important going on than your teenage hormones!” “Bi zui, old man. You’re just pissed that I can operate on my own. I don’t need you anymore.” “No, I wish that were true, but you’ve pretty much proved today how much a kid you still are. I really thought you’d grown up. I just want to know what the guay happened to you when you were off this boat.” “You had it mostly right. Humpin’ on Shadow…” Mal grimaces, both at the words and the imagery. “Shut up!” the increasingly irritated Saffron cries, frustrated that the attention has moved away from her, despite the deadly weapon in her hand. This is all spinning out of control, far quicker than she would have liked it. Right now she’ll stand for just getting the money and mule, her ticket off this rock. “Cushy Core worlds,” Serra continues, ignoring the exasperated sigh from the woman with the gun. “Just left one integral part out… The six weeks I spent in a gorramn Fed jail.” “You what?!” Mal roars. “You an’ your mama couldn’t see fit to…” He’s interrupted by the echo of a gunshot. He looks around to see where it came from, turning to see Saffron holding the smoking gun. He hears a soft moan and looks down, horrified to see his daughter collapsing in front of him, blood seeping from a belly wound. “Tianna, Serra,” he breathes, collapsing to his knees, handing on her stomach to stem the bleeding. A second, louder blast rips through the cargo bay. The bullet hits an advancing Saffron in the shoulder, sending her to the ground. “Simon!” Mal screams, not even bothering to see where the second shot came from, feeling his little girl’s sticky blood pumping against his hands. “Simon! Gorramnit, Doc! We’ve got a belly wound down here.” He hears shouting and footsteps, but his whole world is focused on Serra, on keeping her alive long enough for Simon to get there, on her open eyes and shallow breathing, the way she’s barely groaning with the pain. He removes her healing left arm from the sling to allow Simon better access to the wound when he gets there. Serra grimaces a little as he jostles her while doing this, but remains fairly quiet. “Daddy,” Serra says, voice weak but resolute, eyes glassy with the shock. His eyes snap up to meet hers as he tries to ignore the fact this is his baby girl whose blood covers the cargo bay. “Daddy, can I make it?”

TBC