Work Text:
1. Diamond
Simon gently turns Kaylee’s hand back and forth in his own. She continues sleeping, dead to the world around her on Serenity. The faint scarlet glow from the emergency light above them catches the diamond on her left ring finger, flinging rainbow-hued beams to the corners of their bunk in patterns that mirror the constellations of stars outside the hull of the ship. Diamonds might be a remnant of Earth-That-Was, easily manufactured and passé as far as fashion went, but they’re a stone for a princess. His wife is nothing if not a princess, despite the engine grime smearing her scratched knuckles and her equally filthy overalls crumpled in a heap at the foot of their bed.
Careful not to wake his beloved, Simon softly returns her hand next to her head on the pillow and moves his own to rest on the swollen curve of her stomach. Inara will need to let out the seams of Kaylee’s overalls again, and soon—she’s nearly eight months along and getting bigger every day. He can’t stop an enormous, goofy grin from spreading across his face when the tiniest flutter of movement brushes his palm.
“Hey, there,” he coos quietly.
When he returns his gaze to Kaylee’s face, a matching smile graces her features and she blinks sleepily at him, then covers his hand with her own. They both fall back asleep like that, hands entwined above their child.
2. Slow
Mal, to everyone’s surprise, is by far the fussiest member of the crew when it comes to the impending birth of who he calls the newest crew member. Simon might be inclined to find it endearing—maybe a crack in the captain’s grumpy exterior—but the man knows absolutely nothing about human reproduction other than the first step in the process. He bitches about the medical facilities on every planet they visit for months (even ones that are top-of-the-line), and scolds Kaylee for moving at anything faster than a leisurely stroll.
This afternoon, Mal is lecturing the crew over tea and protein bars. He’s fully expecting a girl—there are a number of old wives’ tales to back him up, and those must have some scientific basis. He continues on in this vein and doesn’t pause to acknowledge River when she breezes into the galley. River ignores him right back. She makes a beeline for Kaylee, stares quizzically at her abdomen, and declares, “It’s going to be a boy.”
Mal shuts up immediately and sputters for a moment.
“Yeah?” he finally challenges. “And why’s that, little one?”
River stares at the captain as though he’s a particularly slow Mudder. “I just know,” she says, and Mal can’t exactly argue with a psychic.
3. Mute
After Kaylee and Simon announce the happy news over dinner, Zoe goes suspiciously mute for weeks. She keeps mostly to her bunk between missions, only venturing out to take her turn at the helm or to slip into the galley for meals, always disappearing with her plate before anyone can stop to make conversation. She responds to Mal’s curt commands with sharp, military nods, and simply shrugs one shoulder when asked for her opinion on missions. More than once, Kaylee catches the first mate staring at her round abdomen with an a stricken look across her normally stoic features.
Kaylee feels inexplicably guilty. Simon, well-intentioned as ever, insists Kaylee is being paranoid. Inara tells her to give Zoe some space. The agony of Wash’s death is still fresh.
But it still eats at Kaylee, and one night as Zoe turns to leave the galley she blurts out, “Zoe, are you mad at me?” Voicing her fear aloud causes a hot rush of tears to build behind the mechanic’s eyes. Zoe turns quickly, and her face crumples when she sees Kaylee’s distress.
“No, Kaylee,” she finally says. It’s the first time she has spoken in weeks. “Wash and I… We were trying.” The words seem to take all the energy she has, and she sinks into a chair at the table with her family. In the days after, Zoe’s grief seems to lift somewhat.
4. Heart
“So when can the kid use a gun?”
Simon’s jaw drops. He stares at Jayne—after so many months, he keeps thinking that Jayne has lost the ability to stun him into silence with the comments he makes. The mercenary keeps proving him wrong. Simon hedges for time by rubbing his chin, then cautiously answers. “I, uh, I hadn’t thought about that. Probably not for quite some time. He won’t even be able to pick his own head up when he’s a newborn, after all.” It’s the safest, most evasive, and most non-committal response he can summon.
Jayne is (as always) oblivious to Simon’s befuddlement. He continues hauling crates off the mule and stacking them in haphazard piles just inside the cargo bay.
“Huh,” the mercenary grunts, “boy should know how to use a peashooter.” He lets down a particularly heavy crate and stares at it a moment, then nods as though he’s made a decision.
“I’ll teach the kid,” he declares, and returns to his task without looking to Simon for a response. Simon is about to protest, but a realization dawns on him. This is Jayne’s way of showing he cares, that there’s a heart somewhere under all that muscle— by teaching Simon’s child to defend himself. Simon finds Jayne’s particular brand of warm sentiments a little alarming, but thanks the man all the same.
5. Silver
Inara kneels gracefully in front of her bureau, humming a lilting tune to herself. She needs to seize this opportunity while the rest of the crew occupy themselves with the supply run at the port on Jaingyin. Kaylee and Simon’s little boy is due any day now, and the idea of a new life aboard Serenity lifts her spirits. Despite Zoe’s perpetually stiff upper lip and Mal’s never-ending quips, Inara knows that her crew needs laughter and light after what they all saw on Miranda.
Inara continues searching through the contents of the bottom drawer, delicately but efficiently moving her belongings aside until she finds the item she’s looking for beneath a box of incense and a bag of hair ornaments. The small bag is woven from the purest indigo silk, and Inara carefully pulls the drawstrings open and pulls out a silver pendent. She has always made an effort to surround herself with beautiful things, but she has always harbored a special love for the clean, simple lines of the Chinese symbol for serenity. The symbol, the same as the one on the hull, is etched into the silver; the pendent is certainly neutral enough to be worn by either sex.
Smiling and still humming, Inara lowers the pendent back into the pouch. A day of birth should be commemorated, and she intends to welcome this child with arms open.
6. Snow
Four days ago on Jiangyin, the summer sun had beaten down on their heads like an ancient, angry deity of fire. Now, as Kaylee waddles down the gangway towards the St. Albans port, she tilts her head back and sticks her tongue out to catch snowflakes. They all melt a split second before they can land on her face. She stretches her fingers towards the slate-grey sky, sighing contentedly and arching her back. The baby is a day past due and her spine is protesting after nine months of carrying around what feels more and more like a watermelon.
As violent and chaotic as their lives may occasionally be, she can’t help but feel thankful that her child will be born into a universe where there are as many seasons as there are moons. She wants her son to taste the popcorn treats on Silverhold and to see the herds of cattle kick the morning dew off the grass on Heinlein.
Kaylee feels her son give a particularly strong kick against her ribcage, as though trying to voice his opinion on the matter. She rubs soothing circles on her abdomen, closing her eyes as the snowflakes swirl around her.
7. Innocence
With Kaylee practically passed out after eight hours of labor, Inara fetching towels and Simon fretting about the state of the medical cabinets, somehow Jayne ends up being the first person to hold the baby. The crew swirls around the medical bay, everyone intensely focused on being helpful. At the eye of this joyous, chattering, frenetic storm, Jayne stands rigidly in spot, gingerly holding the swaddled infant against his chest.
The newborn is screeching at the top of his tiny lungs, and Jayne swears on his mother’s health that the newest member of their crew sounds just like his crazy Aunt River. Indeed, the wispy patch of hair sticking every which way is the same inky black as his father’s. Jayne doesn’t know what to do in this situation; he’s only ever seen calves being born and a compliment seems in order. He clears his throat.
“Er—you have quite a cunning-looking kid, here,” he says loudly, and the activity in the room ceases for a second. Then Kaylee reaches her arms towards her son, a blinding grin splitting her face through the sweat and dried tear streaks. Before depositing the infant into his mother’s arms, Jayne steals one last glance. There two tiny, slits of blue staring back at him.
For the first time in a long time, Jayne thinks he remembers what innocence feels like.
8. Awkward
Simon feels incredibly awkward when he carries his newborn son. He feels as though at any moment the infant’s fragile head might slip out of the crook of his elbow without the slightest warning and crash to the medical bay floor. Simon can picture the ensuing scene in his mind—Jayne’s bellowing, Kaylee’s sobbing, Zoe’s wide eyes and tight lips. Mal would just shoot him.
Probably in the kneecaps.
The infant—Martin Washburne Tam, just shy of nine pounds and a mere ten hours old—stares up at him with an adoration and trust that scares him. As a surgeon, Simon has held literally hundreds of lives in his hands, but he has never felt this nervous. He doesn’t just have butterflies in his stomach; he has a hundred miniature spaceships. As though sensing his father’s discomfort, Martin’s coos abruptly turn to warbling cries.
Just when Simon’s blood pressure reaches its breaking point, River’s face appears from over his left shoulder. She takes one look at the panic on Simon’s face; she wordlessly leans down and scoops her nephew into her willowy arms. Martin quiets almost instantly. River spins in slow circles, murmuring in Chinese.
Simon can’t even bring himself to be jealous. River’s always picked everything up quickly, even sensing how to calm a squalling infant. At least Simon knows it can be done.
Eventually.
9. Danger
Being who they are, the crew of Serenity doesn’t stay out of trouble or danger for long. Although the Alliance has its far-reaching hands full with the PR nightmare that is Miranda, and government eyes seem to be turned away from the Tams, the smuggler’s lifestyle is a perilous one.
When Martin is one month old, the entire crew almost dies of asphyxiation when poisonous exhaust finds its way into the air system through a broken filter. Two weeks later, a half-dozen of Adelei Niska’s crones rig the landing gear to blow as soon as the ship hits the atmosphere. Mal agrees to haul another shipment of cattle, and this time River actually does cause a mini-stampede.
Martin sleeps soundly through it all. Simon won’t say it out loud—not even to Kaylee—but he thinks their son has an intuitive sixth sense like his Aunt River. The infant seems to know that he has two parents and five adoptive aunts and uncles who would fly to edges of the ’Verse itself to keep him safe from harm.
It doesn’t make the diapers any more pleasant, but it’s certainly a start.
10. Ordinary
Sometimes, Simon watches Kaylee flitting around the engine room with grease streaking her face and Martin strapped to her back, and he wonders why he ever wanted an ordinary family.