Mal trod down the three small steps into the dining room and surveyed the group quietly. So far, it was just Jayne and Zoë. Inara tended to sleep through the days so she could stay up nights with Kaylee. Kaylee was on her way up from the engine room, complaining about second-rate copper valves. Hawk, their new pilot, was on the bridge attending to some kind of ‘piloting emergency.’ Hawk’s absence suited Jayne just fine – the man was sly and ever since he came aboard, he’d been mercilessly flirtatious around Jayne. Zoë had never realized how homophobic Jayne could be, and it was funny as hell, because she knew Hawk wasn’t really interested and only did it to torment him. Jayne would figure it out sooner or later, but until he did, they always had a good laugh about it behind his back. And to his face. “We’re headed for Perth,” Mal stated, deciding to start without Kaylee. Zoë sat up straighter and listened to the spiel. Jayne slurped loudly through a bowl of noodles in broth that smelled more like disinfectant than food. About half way through the Captain’s briefing, Kaylee wandered in, surveyed the room with half-dead eyes, and then sat on Zoë’s lap, and leaned on her shoulder. Kaylee always cuddled up to someone these days. No one minded. They accepted it as a toll for her present-mindedness. She listened, she conversed, she ate, she even laughed. Her time was strictly rationed - hours of mirth, hours of anguish, and hours of listless wandering. Zoë shifted a little, wrapping her arms around Kaylee to secure their balance. The dining room chairs weren’t ideal for cuddling. Zoë glanced across the table and smirked as she caught a jealous sneer on Jayne’s face. The merc grumbled about Kaylee’s neediness, but he was always jealous when she didn’t choose him to nestle up to. Captain got jealous, too. Though she never admitted it to anyone, it helped Zoë tremendously to have Kaylee snuggle up to her and draw comfort from her mere presence. She’d grown so tired of the piteous glances she’d received after Wash died, and she saw Kaylee getting those glances far too often with regard to Simon. Hell, she’d even felt pity for the young mechanic, who’d barely had a year to enjoy her husband before he’d been so rudely snatched away. And it was far too unexpected, him dying in his sleep like that. Maybe if they’d expected it, they would have been more prepared to take care of River. Maybe then, she wouldn’t have died too. Zoë’s chin dropped, resting defeatedly on Kaylee’s shoulder. Simon had explained River’s meds to her once. When she’d been shot in the hip and couldn’t leave the Infirmary for two days, she’d become witness to the barrage of meds the girl was given just to keep her sane. Zoë had kept herself from going stir crazy by interrogating the doctor endlessly on the medicines. But fact of the matter was that Zoë wasn’t a doctor, and in the end, all she had were a few pointers and a lot of jibberish. And now she was the best approximation of a medic left on this boat. “Need to replace that cable,” Kaylee spoke up, jarring Zoë back to the fact of Mal talking. She kicked herself for zoning out. She needed to focus on the job at hand or more people would die. It was another train heist, with the traditional ‘drop Jayne out of the sky’ strategy. Since Paradiso, they’d perfected the maneuver. Kaylee listened carefully, contributing a few comments about some new tricks that might smooth things over. She’d been thinking a lot on it and coming up with a safer way to get Jayne on the train and all the booty off. The Captain nodded at Kaylee’s suggestions, and through years of practice, Zoë noticed the pride beaming from his eyes. As soon as the briefing was over, Kaylee closed her eyes and sighed, looking ready to sleep on Zoë’s shoulders. The move awakened a restful, maternal instinct in Zoë, and she unconsciously stroked Kaylee’s hair. There was a shared grief between them that maybe one day they’d talk about. Maybe. For now, it was enough for Zoë to be more than a gun hand or a first mate. To be more than a stoic warrior woman. To be human. “Come on, girl, we got work to do,” Jayne said, coming over and holding a hand out to Kaylee. Zoë nudged her shoulder against Kaylee’s cheek, but the girl kept her eyes closed, resisting the movement. It would be a rough day. Zoë stood, forcing Kaylee to stand with her, and with a little more prompting, she handed the mechanic over to Jayne and the two headed for the cargo bay to tinker with the pulley and platform system, which still lacked proper aerodynamics to be safe. Mal had already disappeared in search of a decent map of Perth, so Zoë headed to the bridge to talk to their new pilot. Hawk was a burly man, built like a decathlete, with spiky red hair that was not by any stretch of the imagination a natural human color. He’d been a few years behind Wash in flight school and had considered Zoë’s late husband his greatest mentor. He’d contacted Zoë with his condolences as soon as he’d heard of Wash’s death and kept in touch constantly. At first, Zoë had been annoyed by the attention, but later she realized that Hawk and Wash had never lost touch over the years, and the man was dealing with his own grief more than he was trying to relieve hers. After Simon and River died, Hawk gave up a position with a luxury liner to come work on Serenity. When Zoë had challenged his motives, he’d told her “Wash left some pretty big shoes to fill. I know I can’t fill them, but I may as well save some other poor bastard from making an ass out of himself trying.” It helped Zoë having him there, because he’d known Wash. He’d been best man at their wedding. Since coming, he’d added a few dinosaurs from his own personal collection to the console, as well as some farm animals and an alien the size of his thumbnail that always seemed to be getting stuffed into a dinosaur mouth. It amazed Zoë that there were two men in the ‘verse that had such an extensive collection of toys. It amazed her more that the two men were so different. Hawk was raised on an Alliance military base and knew everything about weaponry – both messy pistols and advanced electronics and lasers. He could make a weapon out of a stem of grapes, and that skill that had come very handy that one job when they were marooned in that vineyard on Greenleaf. His family connections got them waved through a half-dozen Alliance check points, and took a dearth of burdens from Mal and Zoë’s shoulders. He was also a prankster and a clown, and the best part was that Jayne wouldn’t threaten him, because they were evenly matched for strength. When Zoë stepped onto the bridge, Hawk was glowering at the cortex, his fingers moving a mile a minute. He had long spindly fingers that he said came from playing piano. Having spent a few evenings pub crawling with the man, Zoë knew he didn’t have a musical bone in his body, but he still insisted that was the case. “Problem?” “Just a few hangers on from the world,” Hawk dismissed, though his voice was tense. “Hangers on?” Zoë repeated, looking at the screen showing rear vid. No less than five ships hovered behind them, stalking their every move. “They keep trying to dock. We should open the back door and pick them off so we can stop wasting fuel.” Hawk was always very fuel conscious. His previous jobs being on those gas-guzzling luxury liners, he’d learned a number of tricks to fly smart and stretch the fuel. He hated when unexpected flying screwed up his mileage. Zoë pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “Feds or scavengers?” “Prospective clients,” Hawk groused, sighing in exasperation. “They all want to talk to Inara.” Zoë blinked in surprise. Had Wash ever dealt with this? If so, he never mentioned it. It’d been awhile since Inara had been on Serenity, and she’d had a semi-private line into the shuttle at the time. Still, it didn’t seem right. They’d left the world. “Did you bounce the wave down to her?” “I did the first time. She told me she wasn’t taking clients, so I’ve been screening them, but they’re persistent.” “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” “Oh, there weren’t this many this morning. Most of them just caught up to us, and all those vessels are short range, so in another half day, they’ll have to fall back anyway.” “Or dock,” Zoë countered. “That’s not an option I’m giving them, but I’m sure a few will bank on mercy.” “We’ve never had this problem before,” Zoë mused, wondering what kind of gou shi Inara had gotten herself into on Beaumonde. “This isn’t how you treat a Companion,” Hawk agreed. Zoë noticed he looked angry and defensive. “These men aren’t afraid of the Guild.” Zoë raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Should they be?” Hawk looked at her, a twinkle in his gray eyes, and he laughed at the ignorant question. “The luxury boat I was on housed six Companions. I’ve seen their clients come and go and all the politics associated with it. If you cross a Companion, it’s not just a slap on the wrist. The Guild looks after their own.” Zoë nodded and her gaze returned to the hovering ships behind them. “If these men knew what the Guild could do to them, they’d run now. But just in case they do, I’ve tagged and IDed every one,” he finished with a sinister leer. “Has Inara contacted the Guild?” Hawk furrowed his brow, surprised at the question. “I’m not sure.” Zoë nodded slowly. “Perhaps I should talk to her.”

*~*

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, Zoë sat in the pilot’s chair on the bridge. Kaylee was curled up in the co-pilot’s seat, resting, but not quite sleeping yet. Zoë nipped anxiously at the tips of her fingers, debating with herself as to what to do next. Her talk with Inara that afternoon had been somewhat less than fruitful. The Companion adamantly refused to contact the Guild or even apologize for the string of stalkers. The crisis was somewhat averted, because most of the vessels pursuing them had fallen off in the early evening. But still, it concerned Zoë, because all it would take was one rich man in a long range vessel to bring Serenity to their knees. If things got worse, she’d contact the Guild herself. But such an action struck her as betraying Inara, and Zoë hated being caught in the middle of that. Mal entered the bridge, tiredly rubbing his eyes, ready to relieve Zoë and take over ‘Kaylee-watch.’ He’d been anxious and fidgety ever since Inara came back, and Zoë knew it was hard on him. She’d overheard them on the catwalk, after Miranda, when Mal asked Inara to stay on the ship. And it seemed she would, but two weeks later, she’d packed up and left inexplicably, for some Guild emergency on Beaumonde. However that situation had passed, it had not passed well for Inara, because the woman rarely left her room. And Mal was wound up tighter than a Fed in an all-Browncoat bar. Zoë knew he was worried about Inara leaving again. He would do anything to keep her here, but no longer trusted that she’d stay. “Somethin’ wrong with sleeping on the couches?” Mal asked, leaning on the console. “Just checkin’ a few things.” “Everything alright?” “Sir, I just don’t like the idea of Serenity being stalked by wealthy, horny scoundrels who don’t take no for an answer.” “Still out there, then?” he asked, looking a little more alert. Zoë shook her head, checking the proximity sensors once more, just to sooth her own paranoia. “None that I see. But it’s unsettling.” “I’ll talk to ‘Nara in the morning. You should get some rest.” Zoë nodded and climbed tiredly out of the cockpit, trudging down the stairs to her bunk. Mal followed behind, aiming for the galley. Zoë watched him from the top of her ladder, considering a soothing cup of tea before bed, but didn’t get very far before Kaylee’s whimpered cry cut through the ship. Both she and Mal dashed back to the bridge. Zoë rushed to Kaylee, wrapping her arms around the girl, muffling Kaylee’s cries against her body. “Zoë, everyone was gone,” she sobbed. “The whole ship. The pulley in the cargo bay. The Reavers strung us up to dry…” “We’re fine. We’re still here,” Zoë soothed, and Kaylee clung tightly to her. “Just went for tea is all.” “I’m sorry,” Kaylee moaned, crying and trying not to. “I – it’s a stupid dream.” “You didn’t wake us,” Mal assured, placing a hand on her shoulder. “How ‘bout you and me go to the galley and get somethin’ to drink and we let Zoë get some shut-eye.” Kaylee nodded, wiping embarrassed tears from her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured again. “I know,” Zoë answered, trying hard not to look on Kaylee with pity. As a recourse she opted for dry humor. “I’ll forgive you this time, but don’t wake me again.” Kaylee gave a watery smile, affording herself some grace for the embarrassing nightmare. It had been a rough day.

*~*

Nothing But a Whore