The Alliance Negotiator turned away from the window, tired of staring
for another day at the formal garden, the carefully edged flowerbeds,
the same gardeners trimming what he could swear were the same trees over
and over. Did they come back at night and glue the leaves back on, for
the sake of job security?

"Your Eminence." The assistant's bow was only a shade away from the
correct depth. That would be taken care of later. "You are asked to
return to the table."

One look at his opposition, whose iron face seemed to be rusting from
the inside out with unshed tears, and he knew the war was over. The
man's head bowed. "We accept your terms." He slid a hand into the deep
pocket of his brown coat. "End the fighting."

The Alliance Negotiator inclined his head solemnly, withholding his
pleasure from view. "Send word to the army: cease fire."

The assistant and the other minions scurried away.

"I implore Your Honor, General Lee, please allow me to send ships to
relieve my troops, to move them away from the battle."

"I see no reason for that. Your people wanted to live their lives
outside the shelter of the Alliance; they may continue to do so."

"But they are dying by the million on Serenity and Pax and Ruhe and
Adoration Dale!"

"Commander, my orders stand.  And my name is Liber, not Lee.  Liber, as
in book."  General Augustus Liber, the Alliance's chief negotiator,
stood patiently. "Would you care for lunch before returning to your
troops? I'll have someone pack a sandwich."

"I must make arrangements to evacuate my soldiers, General."

"You have no troops, sir, only casualties."  Liber waved a hand.  "Pack
a lunch for this gentleman.  For one.  He'll be taking it with him."

       ***

"Don't you think she's beautiful?"

"Too dark; that's not the fashion any more, I hear."

"Oh, that doesn't matter, since Mynheer Jules is so fair. I wonder what
their baby will look like?"

"Shhh. Is it over already? He's making the announcement. Listen."

"... I have the pleasure and great joy of announcing the birth of my
daughter, Adeline Inara, named after my mother and my wife..." The
portly little mayor smiled broadly at the crowd of townspeople clustered
on the dirt street outside his house.

       ***

"You will stand up straight, son. I want you to be a credit to me at the
academy."

"Y-yes, sir. Father."

"You come from a family of soldiers, and someday soon you'll make a fine
soldier for the Alliance, maybe even a general."

"I'll do my best."  He straightened his back, trying not to wince where
his clothes rubbed the sores from the last beating.  If he showed any
pain, he'd get another.

"It's not easy to get into officer training. I'm already proud of you,
Jayne."

"Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir."  At least he'd be away, finally.

       ***

"If you leave this family, you need not come back."

"I'm going. I can't believe you'd abandon one of us."

"Believe what you will, child. You're on your own now."

Within ten minutes she'd stolen his favorite cruiser and gone on her
quest, insane though it might be.

Perhaps he should have listened to his wife and sent River to that
school for gifted children, but wasn't it enough that Simon was already
there?  Besides, River's hands were more talented with a scalpel or a
replasmator than anyone he'd ever seen; why encourage her to dance and
sing nonsense when she could be a fine doctor? She could dance and sing
on her own time.

As for Simon, clearly that 'code' River was so certain about was just
another of his childish games.  Humor him, and he'd never outgrow them.

       ***

Some people still held to the old ways, but not Wash. He jumped ship on
Clemency, took his things, and went looking for another job, and they
let him. He'd been excess, as it was; they already had two pilots,
working shifts, and a chief engineer with an assistant. They didn't need
him, so he broke the indenture and made the leap.

And didn't look back.

After the Dragonfly left, he wandered around the docks, sniffing out
possibilities.

"Hey." This from a woman with a bamboo-bladed parasol, who sat on the
gangplank of a small cargo ship, a Firefly.

"Hey."

"If you're interested in passage off-world, we've surely got room if
you've got the fare." She smiled.  He stopped.

"I'm actually looking for a job."

Her gaze sharpened and they looked each other over. "And you do what,
exactly?"

"Mechanic. Pilot." He thought a moment. "Whatever you need done."

"Do you come with references?"

He shook his head. "I ... had to leave the last job a bit suddenlike.
For my health."

"Ah." She looked him over again. "Let's have you take a gander at what
we've got, and we'll see if we can come to an agreement. And your name
..." She waited for him, and he shook himself out of his reverie.

"I'm ...people call me Wash."

"Good to meet you. I'm Kaylee, and the people on this ship call me captain."

She stood, and smiled, and he lost his heart. He'd always had a thing
for red hair.

       ***

"What was that?"

"'Nother varmint. Don't worry about it." She went to retrieve the
carcass. If it wasn't too blasted with shell fragments, it'd go into the
stewpot.

"By damn, you're the best bartender we've ever had, not to mention bouncer."

"I don't bounce coydogs, just gorillas." She dropped the carcass on the
scarred working table on the porch. "Pelt's yours, if you want it. And
I'm not just the best bartender, I'm the only one you've ever had."

"True enough. True enough." He was already skinning the critter, gutting
it and putting the entrails aside to be cleaned for sausage casings.
They'd learned to use every bit of anything either of them killed long
ago. Even now, when they were relatively flush, the habit didn't change.
"What time are we opening?"

She scanned the sky overhead. "Soon as those ships get docked. I can
guarantee you, we're going to have thirsty sailors in The Serenity
Valley Inn tonight."

"Once they eat my mixed-critter stew, they'll be happy, too. Real meat,
not protein powder like they get on those ships." Mal shook his head.
"Don't ever want to do that again."

"What, fly?" Zoe smiled at him indulgently. "You know, if you got that
leg of yours fixed, you could go anywhere you wanted."

"I know." He quirked a grin at her. "But I'd miss the bar. Had enough of
travel during the war." She handed him his cane, and he hobbled inside,
skinned carcass in the other hand.

Yep, that new leg was fitting better, and it looked less painful. She'd
custom-carved it herself for him, after the sores from the one they'd
gotten from the medic nearly went gangrenous. She resolved to keep an
eye out for another likely piece of wood. Wouldn't hurt to have a spare.
 

###