Archive of Our Own

Holiday (noun)—A day of festivity and recreation. Synonyms—Celebration, anniversary.

Calendars exist for a reason, and Sonia probably should have looked at one before she decided to go with the rest of the crew to get drunk as hell. However, her week's to-do list, constructed in retrospect and with sarcasm, went something like this:

1. Fix the equipment in the medbay with a borrowed wrench and a very old instruction manual. Because of course Kaylee rewiring the flare dispenser is far more important than helping her out.
2. Let Jayne provide the cards when they're playing for chores. Because they're not marked, not a chance. And realize what's going on, yes, but only after she gets stuck with septic duty.
3. Sit up all night with River and Book as various fever and chills run their course. No need to offer to take a shift, anyone. It's fine. She is a masochist and takes pleasure in sleep deprivation.

And now she's in some rundown bar, choking down incredibly vile whiskey—her second glass—and ready to snap at the first person who gives her the slightest excuse. Which happens to be a hulking laborer, who raises his cup and yells at everyone to shut up and then declares that of course we all know what day it is.

Sonia snorts, rolls her eyes very obviously, and calls back that actually no, we don't all know what day it is, and traditional solar cycles are anachronistic in a 'verse with multiple earths anyway, so why don't you shut up?

This seems to throw the laborer for a loop, but he finally manages to ask what the hell is wrong with her. Sonia informs him that she has intelligence, which perhaps he doesn't recognize due to his obvious lack of it, and his mother's obvious lack of it, and the lack of it in the hedgehog with which his mother clearly had sexual intercourse.

The laborer drunkenly stumbles over and demands to know if she's a traitor to the great Alliance. Sonia knocks back more whiskey and replies of course not, why ever would she prove traitorous to such a self-righteous, dogmatic, malevolent, frog-humping regime as the great Alliance? Upon which the laborer tries to punch her, and she breaks his nose.

Thus it is that Dr. Sonia Tam starts her first Unification Day bar fight, without even intending to.

At first it's, as Mal might say, a nice honest brawl between folk, though he might be biased, since he went out to drink with the obvious if unspoken intention of getting some violence. He and Zoe and Jayne throw punches left and right, while Sonia fends off her attackers with a bench. And then a short man, either drunk or grudge-holding or both, pulls out a long knife and buries it in Zoe's shoulder.

Nobody injures Sonia's pregnant patient/fellow crew mate like that and gets away with it. She drops the bench, grabs Mal's gun out of his holster, and shoots the short man in the head. Right before seeing the mayor's insignia on his coat.

It's a very good thing that Wash and Serenity arrive when they do, because no doubt somebody called the Feds. As it is, once they're back onboard Sonia puts the last stitch in Zoe's shoulder and turns to examine the rest of the crew, waving off their concern and assuming that her dizziness is the result of the whiskey.

It's not. It's a concussion. Accompanied by three cracked ribs and several lacerations from a broken bottle. She collapses two seconds later.

Later, when she's sober again, she feels absolutely terrible for both starting the brawl and nearly bringing the Feds down on them by shooting the mayor, but to her surprise, the rest of the crew doesn't seem to care one bit. Zoe rolls her eyes and points out that if she hadn't offended that laborer, Mal almost certainly would've. The captain indignantly defends himself, but then gets sidetracked into an argument with Wash about whether self-righteous or frog-humping is a worse insult.

The real surprise, though, comes when Sonia is in the infirmary examining the knife used by the mayor—all of Serenity's crew knows that to remove a weapon from a wound increases its severity, and so had waited to pull it out until they'd returned to the ship. Jayne slouches in and tells her not to toss that in the disposal—it's a quality knife, they can sell it. And Sonia replies that no, she thinks she'll clean it and keep it. After all, she doesn't own any others.

And Jayne considers this, and then gives her a look of grudging respect and mentions that she could've done worse in that brawl. Pretty decent job, got that hun dan right between the eyes. Mayhap there's hope for her after all.

Sonia's jaw hits the floor, and stays there long after Jayne has left.

Purpose (noun)—The reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists. Synonyms—Reason, motivation, role.

Sir Warwick Harrow wants to bribe every elected official in the system until they have little credit symbols instead of eyes. At least that's how Mal summarizes it. To that end, the knight is throwing a devilishly expensive party. (His sash indicates lord-hood, but he'd be properly addressed in society as a knight, as Sonia points out before realizing nobody gives a good gorram.)

Therefore, Serenity's crew has been hired to smuggle supplies, which means that for two weeks there will be many crates of champagne, several barrels of sugar, and about ten thousand oranges on the same ship as both Kaylee and Jayne. This is a horrible idea on multiple levels. Anyone who does not see why should place the words "sugar" and "oranges" in close proximity to the word "Kaylee," and the word "champagne" in close proximity to the word "Jayne," and ponder the combinations. However, this will apparently not be taken into consideration. According to River, last time anyone made a list of the 25 Most Common Attributes of Malcolm Reynolds, proper foresight snuck in at number 23.

Luckily, in the list of the 25 Most Common Attributes of Inara Serra, proper foresight is closer to number six, and so while they are planetside picking up the supplies, she herself buys a few bottles of champagne and a bushel of oranges, in hopes that these will, for at least awhile, distract the crew. So they have a bona fide party their first night in the black. Kaylee squeezes some orange juice to mix with the champagne, which has River going on a rant about how a mimosa is also defined as a plant in the legume family with prickly leaves and globular white or pink flowers. Inara recruits Wash and the two manage to make some kind of orange candy in addition, and pretty soon everyone (barring Zoe, who of course is avoiding alcohol) settles down to the champagne.

Except Sonia. She's in the infirmary reading Shan Yu. Which is another horrible idea on multiple levels, but she doesn't want to be out there. Why, she isn't sure, and she isn't at all interested in examining her feelings.

Sadly, she doesn't get a choice. Mal, despite his lack of foresight, has an eerie ability to tell when someone on his crew is twisted out of shape. And since tact didn't get on his Common Attributes list at all, he barges into the infirmary and asks if they should've picked up a straightjacket, 'cause if she's passing up champagne for that sadistic go-se, clearly it's not long before she turns into a gibbering lunatic. In response to which Sonia snaps that as she's superfluous when there's not a crisis of some kind, what does it matter?

Mal demands to know what that's supposed to mean, so she tells him, the words tumbling out of her mouth as they take shape in her mind. Everyone on Serenity has a purpose, a role beyond the jobs they're hired to do. Zoe is their balance, she keeps them from veering out of control. Wash brings laughter, keeps them from getting too stoic. Jayne is their skeptic, pointing out what no one else is willing to consider. Kaylee is their light, their reminder that joy is always possible. Inara brings tenderness, meets harshness with mercy. Book is their faith, he believes in what no one else can see just yet. River is their mission, she gives them truth to tell. And Mal binds them together, gives them a place and strength to depend on.

But what does she bring? Sonia's talking too fast now, she's aware she sound frantic, and tries to reign that in. She's River's protector, but where does that leave her when River doesn't need protection anymore? She's their doctor, but where does that leave her when nobody is hurt? The crew is happy right now. She's not needed. She could vanish and no one would notice.

And Mal bursts out laughing.

Sonia is sorely tempted to try and give him a black eye, and perhaps he senses that, because he pulls himself together and tells her she's already a gibbering lunatic if she ain't figured out where she fits in the spectrum. You're our love, you idiot, he says. Our unconditional, reckless, stupidly heroic love. Not one of us has ever done what you did, dropped everything 'cause somebody we cared for was in pain, nearly died ten times over without even asking for thanks. We need that. There's all these horrors in the 'verse, and then there's you, standing up on a gorram pyre next to your sister, ready to burn for her. That bravery is worth fighting for as much as anything. So put down Shan Yu and get your champagne and those orange sugary things afore somebody steals 'em.

There isn't enough champagne for any of them to get truly drunk, but they get fairly close, as is clear by the activity they endeavor before the evening is up—trying to fit the entire crew onto the same sofa. Zoe is of course on Wash's lap, to their left River is sitting on an alarmed Jayne, and Inara is perched on the armrest. To Wash's right is Sonia, followed by Mal, with Kaylee flopped across both of them. As the right armrest got somewhat destroyed a few months ago, Book stretches himself across the sofa's back.

They're all laughing so hard it's difficult to stay in place for more than a few seconds, but they manage in the end. Sonia is rather confused the entire time, however, because she simply cannot figure out why she's feeling a repeated need to sniff Mal's coat. Since Jayne only has on one boot and Wash is wearing a pot on his head and Kaylee has made her socks into hand puppets, she doesn't feel her behavior stands out, but it's still odd.

Except that the next day Jayne is back to wearing both boots and the pot is back on the shelf and Kaylee's socks are back on her feet, and Sonia is still feeling a repeated, though naturally not indulged, need to sniff Mal's coat. It's all very puzzling. That is, until River takes some time off from explaining to Book how a theoretical enzyme could account for Jesus' changing of water into wine, and cites ten recent medical studies about the role of olfactory stimulation in sexual attraction.

Book, who's just trying for a little peaceful Bible study, is rather disturbed when Sonia drops a mug of tea all over the floor. But he's not altogether surprised when the doctor starts muttering random strings of words, which communicate the basic message that she is not attracted to Malcolm Reynolds, and that in fact she utterly refuses to be attracted to Malcolm Reynolds, because there should be some kind of legal statute in place preventing anyone from being attracted to Malcolm Reynolds.

So Book takes a break from studying to offer fervent thanks to his Lord and Savior that he took a vow of celibacy and thus does not have to deal with this kind of thing anymore.

Distracted (adjective)—Unable to concentrate because one's mind is preoccupied. Synonyms—Bemused, inattentive, bewildered.

Sonia had imagined that learning how to rescue one's crew members from a nefarious and diabolical crime lord such as Adelai Niska was a task to which everyone would gladly devote their attention. So she can't figure out why nobody seems to be able to remember even the simplest aspects of the plan she's devised. Granted, it took everyone some time to get the Ariel heist under their belts, but still.

Finally, after around an hour of getting blank stares from everyone but River and Inara she throws down her stylus and demands to know why nobody is even looking at the schematics. Zoe sighs and says, Doctor, it's the dress. We can see you've got curves now, and we ain't used to it.

Oh. Right. That.

The hormones have altered Sonia's body, particularly the chest area, to the point where her old clothes were just plain uncomfortable. So a week ago, she entered Inara's shuttle, gritted her teeth for a solid five minutes, and then began going through her Long List of Horribly Embarrassing Questions. Samples of her dialogue included such phrases as:

1. Um, what styles will make my shoulders look less, um, wide?
2. The door to your shuttle is locked, isn't it? No one's coming in?
3. Alright, so what exactly do you do about, um, shaving?
4. Has anyone ever actually died of embarrassment? This is a medical question.
5. So how do you size a bra? Is it as hard as it sounds?
6. Inara. Please. Just shoot me now. I hate clothes.

And then they'd gone shopping on Persephone, and even though Inara assured her five times that every woman has trouble when buying undergarments, it didn't stop Sonia from secretly wishing to be anywhere else. Anywhere at all. Well, not in an Alliance cell. Or a psychiatric institute. Or a Reaver ship. Alright, it could've been a lot worse. Honestly, after all she's survived, she was not going to back down at the sight of a flimsy bit of cloth, even if that flimsy bit of cloth had lace and silk, or was made of some material she couldn't even identify.

Their excursion into outerwear was less petrifying. Sonia held onto her own style to some extent—black pants in more feminine styles, sweaters that were more like wraparound dresses. But shoes, the next day, were a nightmare. They'd gone to at least five stores. She'd sort of hoped Mal or Zoe would com them with the news that someone had been terribly injured, but no such luck.

But when they'd finished, Sonia had looked at her reflection, and she'd grinned. Not, as Osiris high society might have mockingly said, because she was pulling off some kind of disguise. But because she's fighting for her own brand of freedom, not in a war on a cosmic scale, but with the refusal to pretend she's somebody she isn't. And she knows it will, yet again, take everyone some time to get used to this. That's alright.

She just wishes that at the moment they would pay more attention to foiling Niska, and less to the relative tightness and cut of her clothes.

Determination (noun)—Firmness of purpose, resoluteness. Synonyms—Willpower, tenacity, perseverance.

Sonia is in the mood to choke somebody to death with her bare hands. Seven hours earlier, she'd been doctoring the sick locals who, upon hearing of her status as medic, had come to beg for her help. Having done all she could for them, she'd turned to Zoe, who'd accompanied her, and proposed that they head back to Serenity.

It was at that point she discovered the locals had exactly no interest in letting them go. It was also at that point she became grateful for Jayne's immense vocabulary of curse words, for though swearing at their captors didn't help in a practical sense, it certainly gave her some emotional satisfaction.

Now she and Zoe are sitting in a rough but sadly secure wooden shack after being hauled several miles on a rattling mule, waiting for the rest of Serenity's crew to track them down. It's taking an unnervingly long time, and though Zoe appears quite unconcerned—and is, in fact, reading an old weapons manual she picked up in town earlier—Sonia can't help but remember almost getting burned at the stake, and finds it difficult to refrain from pacing anxiously. Still, at least this time she's sure they won't be abandoned. It could be worse.

Then Zoe closes the manual and states, very quietly, that she thinks she might be in labor.

It's not the words themselves—though they are alarming enough—that alert Sonia to the fact that something is off. It's the way Zoe says them, too carefully and with too little emotion. She's trying to hide how she feels, and how she feels is afraid. Zoe the steadfast, the unflappable, who watched a torturer slice her captain's ear off and hand it to her without flinching, is afraid.

And that should scare Sonia too. Truthfully, it does. But if Zoe is frightened, then she'll need Sonia to be a dozen times more calm and resolute. They might be on a border planet, in a thoroughly unclean environment, with no medical equipment and the chance of being up to their ears in a firefight at any moment, but it doesn't matter. Dr. Tam has always been, and will always be, the consummate medical professional.

So she nods, and asks Zoe how far apart her contractions are, if she's experiencing back pain, and if her water has broken.

At first, Sonia's hopeful that their crew will turn up before the labor progresses very far. After all, first babies take an average of eight hours or more. She helps Zoe walk around the room through her contractions, teasing her about what a story this will make for her son or daughter and how appropriate that a Serenity infant should begin life under such circumstances. Zoe smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

The hours tick by, the crew doesn't appear, the hint of fear on Zoe's face turns to sheer terror, and Sonia feels sick with desperation. She may be a doctor, but at the moment, it seems that anyone else on Serenity would give more comfort. Wash undoubtedly knows just what to say to a Zoe in pain, Mal has had years of practice standing by her, Inara can console anyone, it's impossible to be sad around Kaylee, Book's faith is contagious. But all Sonia the logician can do is spout medical jargon and declare that women have given birth this way for thousands of years. In other words, on the emotional side of things, she's useless.

And then Mal's words come back to her. You're our love, you idiot. Our unconditional, reckless, stupidly heroic love.

The mere idea of releasing logic scares Sonia. But she can't just add the pluses and subtract the minuses anymore. Humans aren't so predictable. If they were, she herself would still be Simon Tam, mindlessly gathering status as a surgeon on Osiris. It was love that brought her here, and it's love that will help her now.

So instead of using the words that have so often failed her, she wraps her arms around Zoe, holding her like she held River when the demons grew too terrible. And Zoe grabs her hand in a death grip (and when it's Serenity's first mate, the death in death grip can feel literal) and her eyes turn from fearful to her accustomed determination.

Osiris high society would be mystified indeed to learn that Dr. Tam, the gifted surgeon who could have been head of a trauma unit in the best hospital in Capital City and part of the Medical Elect, currently regards her greatest achievement to date as delivering the baby daughter of an outlaw soldier and pilot, with no tools but her wit and un-sanitized hands. They might also have been shocked, when a rather intimidating local entered the shack and began delivering threats towards said outlaw soldier and baby, to see the same doctor violate the Hippocratic Oath several times, causing the local to stumble out again with a black eye, cut lip, and broken nose.

Logical? Not at all. Heroic? Well, it could be.

Mal, River, Jayne and Book turn up just in time to catch the sunrise, having searched throughout the night. The rescue itself, compared with similar past retrievals, is absurdly simple—Mal merely looks at River and tells her to go all out, which she promptly does. Those few locals still standing after thirty seconds are more than happy to drop the keys to the shack and run for the hills. It almost takes longer for the rescuers to recover from the shock they sustain when they open the door and find they have three crew members to take back to Serenity instead of two.

The next several weeks have Wash, now an enthusiastic father, remarking that if current patterns are any indication, his daughter will grow up thinking she has nine parents. Though her language skills aren't due to develop anytime soon, Book is already telling her stories. Inara has a seemingly endless supply of lullabies and kisses. Kaylee tickles her feet, and leans over her cot watching her sleep for hours. When she cries after a nap, Mal goes to get her nearly as often as Zoe or Wash. River is frequently found staring into her eyes and pronouncing on the state of her soul in relation to the stars. Even Jayne loves to hold her, and doesn't even get mad when she spits up milk all over his shirt.

For her part, Sonia watches the baby with an eagle eye for any health problems. She's prepared to guilt-trip Mal all the way to Londinium and back if he isn't willing to take Serenity somewhere with a decent clinic so their newest crew member can get vaccinated, but this turns out to be wholly unnecessary. The captain informs her she can tell Wash to take them wherever they need to go, and then stands in the infirmary door watching her with a look she can't identify.

Sonia can't help but take note of the fact that Mal's been watching her a great deal for the past few months, ever since the bar fight on Unification Day, and more since the night the baby was born. It's decidedly uncomfortable, because despite her continued official stance that there should be a legal statute in place against anyone being attracted to Malcolm Reynolds, she's not keeping to the letter or the spirit of that law. The opposite, in fact—her attraction is just getting worse.

And it's made her realize that, as far as she has come towards self-acceptance, she still has a long way to go. Because she's still not quite able to think of herself as enough of a woman, so to speak, for there to be a chance Mal returns her feelings.

Fantasy (noun)—The faculty or activity of imagining things, especially things that are impossible or improbable. Synonyms—Invention, fancy, make-believe.

River enjoys quoting William Shakespeare. In fact, she occasionally uses his words to cope with extreme stress. This point is driven home on a day where they all took shore leave and went out to lunch at a seafood restaurant. At dinner that night, she announces that "when sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions. From Hamlet." Upon which she promptly vomits all over herself.

It doesn't take long before she's installed in the infirmary, throwing up on an unfortunately consistent basis. The battalions of which she speaks become apparent over the next twelve hours, during which Jayne, Inara, Zoe, Book, and Wash each in turn begin emptying the contents of their stomachs in inconvenient places. Sonia soon identifies the problem as food poisoning, and is highly grateful that Mal and Kaylee don't like oysters any more than she does, and that the baby seems to have avoided infection as well, or she could have ten cases on her hands instead of six.

Six is bad enough. For two days, her whole 'verse is made up of basins and soiled bed sheets and oral re-hydration powder. The sick crew members have fevers and headaches and can't keep anything down, and they are, as usual, terrible patients. River's fever gives her nightmares and she frequently breaks anything left with reach of her thrashing arms. Jayne complains mightily, demands of Sonia why she didn't gorram mention that oysters could do this to you, and bothers her for pain meds long after they're out of anything that would help. Inara and Wash both get seriously dehydrated and spend twelve hours hooked up to IVs so they can get the fluids they need. Zoe has a talent, it becomes clear, for throwing up anywhere but in the basin provided her for the purpose. Book keeps trying to get up and assist the caregivers, only to collapse in random places around the ship and need to be helped back to bed.

On top of all this, one of Serenity's power couplings goes bad. So Kaylee has to abandon the sickrooms. Then it turns out half the landing equalizers need rewiring (whatever that means) and Mal has to go help, though at least they're able to keep the baby with them. But it still leaves Sonia running to and fro, dissolving baking soda and salt and sugar in water to supplement lost minerals, throwing dirty clothes into the laundry, and trying to ignore how tired she's becoming.

Slowly, the crew starts to recover. They're able to keep fluids down, their temperatures lower, their headaches ease. Sonia is vaguely aware that she's exhausted, but there's no one else to keep an eye on things. She will stay awake...but surely it won't do any harm if she sits down for five seconds...

When she wakes up, she's lying in bed with no idea how she got there. Or at least, she informs herself firmly that she has no idea how she got there, that she had only dreamed Mal picking her up and carrying her, had only imagined him telling her that she was clearly dead on her feet and was under orders not to get up for at least sixteen hours, had somehow invented the gentle touch of a hand on her face.

Just a fantasy.

Quixotic (adjective)—Exceedingly idealistic and unrealistic. Synonyms—Impractical, unworkable, impossible.

There are days Sonia really wishes she'd been born without this stupid protector's complex. The day she climbed on a pyre in a futile attempt to stop the hill folk from burning River. The day she tackled Jubal Early after getting shot in the leg. The day she smuggled herself onto a penal moon to rescue Mal and Zoe. And today.

Yes, she's regretting it today, because it turns out Niska is even more of a bastard than she would have anticipated based on past evidence.

Earlier, Serenity landed on the planet where they'd been paid to deliver a shipload of seeds and farm equipment, and Zoe, Mal, and Jayne had headed off to complete the job. Inara had a client, Book was visiting the local church, Kaylee and River had gone in search of fresh produce in a nearby market, and Wash and Sonia had stayed with the baby.

At least, they had until a capture had shown up on Serenity's wave screen of Inara lying bruised, battered, and unconscious on the floor of her shuttle, along with directions on how to find her. It was at that point that Sonia's doctor instincts had kicked in and short-circuited her common sense. Ignoring Wash, who was pointing out loudly and correctly that this was the most obvious trap in the book, she had headed straight out in search of the Companion.

And yes, it was a trap.

So now here she is, tied back-to-back with Inara on the very electrocution machine her crewmates described to her in such detail, with absolutely no one to blame for it but herself and her idiotic compulsion to rescue everybody. Her fury with herself is only matched by a white-hot loathing for Niska, who is so obviously enjoying this with every fiber of his ugly little soul. After awhile, his smugness becomes so irritating that she decides through a haze of pain that she's going to get back at him.

So she starts quoting Shan Yu.

Though he attempts to hide it, this clearly annoys Niska. Sonia spits out every last florid and sadistic epigram she can think of, trying to glare at him in a way that signals he will die a slow and painful death while she watches and laughs. Eventually, though, it seems to work a little too well, and he orders his henchman to up the electrocution level. At which point Sonia discovers that indeed, it is possible to scream so much you quite literally can't scream anymore, and to be in enough agony that you actually want to die.

Also, that you should be careful what you wish for.

That particular piece of knowledge comes when she finds herself being shocked by a defibrillator and hearing Niska inform her that she died. Sonia, who at this point is rather past thinking at all, starts quoting the transcripts of Shan Yu's trial. This turns out to be a bad idea—as if she hasn't had enough of those today—because Niska has apparently read those transcripts too and doesn't like to be reminded that his hero was convicted and sent to prison, especially by a judge who just happens to have the same first name as the woman he's torturing. The only good thing about what happens next is that Niska seems to forget about Inara, who's passed out on the electrocution machine by now.

What does happen next is this:

1. Sonia experiences the delightful sensation of having several fingernails pulled off with pliers. Please note the sarcasm. She's only not screaming because she can't.
2. Niska becomes bored with this and decides to hold red-hot irons on Sonia's arms. And it turns out that under those circumstances she can actually scream some more.
3. Niska remembers she's a doctor—a surgeon, in fact—and would probably like her hands to be in good shape. So he begins the slow process of crushing her fingers.
4. Around the second finger, Sonia passes out.

When she wakes up, she's lying on a table in the torture chamber, and Niska's gone back to Inara. Sonia doesn't know what to do. They haven't tied her down, but does it matter? Her body won't obey her. She couldn't fight her way out of here, not a chance.

But Sonia is a doctor, and that's her patient screaming. She's a protector, and that's Inara screaming—Inara the kindhearted, Inara the ship mother, Inara who never once looked at her oddly or mixed up her pronouns. Sonia has to try, even if it won't do any good.

So, using every bit of strength she possesses, Sonia drags herself off the table, snatches up the pliers that yanked out her fingernails, and hurls them at Niska's head. It would have been utterly useless, not giving him more than a bruise, but he hears her and turns around at just the right moment. Instead of hitting his skull and bouncing off, the pliers get him in the face, bloodying his nose.

And the whole thing would still have been pretty quixotic, except that the Companion's Guild does teach its members a little self-defense, for dealing with irksome clients. So while Niska is distracted by the blood pouring down his face, Inara rolls off the table she was lying on, kicks him behind the knee to knock him down, grabs a knife from the table, and cuts his throat.

Somebody's shouting for Niska through the com, and Sonia's first thought is that the two of them are doomed, completely doomed, once his henchmen realize their boss is dead. Then she registers what the henchman is actually saying. It's along the lines of: I told you, sir! I told you to leave your wife's nephew alone! But no, you don't listen, you said she'd never sell you out. And you said nobody would have the nerve to storm your Skyplex twice. Well, guess what? Serenity's not knocking at our front door—they've gorram knocked it down!

Which means Sonia's second thought is: Oh, good, Niska's wife wasn't lying about wanting revenge and his life insurance. Her third thought is: I'm going to pass out again. Which she promptly does.

And wakes up in Serenity's infirmary, to Mal shouting at her for being an idiot. It's going to be a long next few days.

Light (noun)—The natural agent that stimulates sight and makes things visible. Synonyms—Brightness, luminosity, radiance, glow, brilliance.

When Zoe declares that on Greenleaf lives an old Browncoat veteran who runs a dance hall, Sonia is fairly sure she's joking. But both Kaylee and Mal confirm the statement—in fact, Kaylee is nearly bouncing off the engine room walls at the prospect of getting to visit the shiny place again. Book at once volunteers babysitting services so that Wash and Zoe can go dance the night away. Wash immediately accepts and begins lobbying for Zoe to put in an appearance in her slinky dress.

Jayne inquires about the likelihood that he might pick up a prostitute, and wilts when informed by Mal that it ain't gorram likely (apparently this is a somewhat respectable establishment). Kaylee, however, bribes him into saying he'll come along with the promise that she'll give his guns a good going-over, and talks Inara into joining them as well. River needs no convincing whatsoever—she never has where dancing is concerned. From Zoe's description, the place is pretty popular, so they shouldn't have trouble finding partners.

Kaylee invites Sonia as well, but she isn't much for dancing and suspects she'd end up sitting in a corner all night. She fervently hopes that the mechanic convinces Mal to go with them, though, because he is driving her insane. Serenity isn't a particularly large ship, but it has never seemed smaller than it does in the week it takes them to get to Greenleaf. She runs into Mal in the hallways, in the kitchen, on the bridge, in the cargo bay. Every time, he seems about to say something, but never actually does. In the space of an afternoon, he walks into the infirmary as she's sorting meds from their last salvage mission, then turns around and leaves without a word—three times.

It finally occurs to Sonia that the captain might have some kind of injury or sickness he's embarrassed to talk about. That would be a first, but it seems to fit the signs. In which case, as ship's medic it is her job to get to the heart of the matter. So the day Serenity arrives on Greenleaf, when Mal puts in another surprise appearance in the infirmary and seems about to retreat, Sonia stops him. Then she calmly informs him that as a doctor she's heard it all and the faster she knows what's wrong, the better able she'll be to help. And she does honestly believe she's prepared.

As it turns out, she's not. She's not prepared at all, because what Mal has to say basically comes down to this:

1. You drive me insane. You're stuck-up, you're the most tactless person I know, you can be so gorram oblivious it's absurd, you're stubborn beyond belief or reason, you're too reckless for your own good or anybody else's, your talent for alienating folks really is near miraculous, and when you landed on my ship with your sister in a cryo box and a price on your head, you completely derailed my life.
2. You drive me insane. You're incredibly selfless, you fight like the devil when there ain't a chance you can win, I can't look at you without thinking how beautiful you are, when you love somebody it's terrifying 'cause you'll do anything for them, I trust you with my life and you've proved worthy of that trust every time, and I ain't one for God but I sure as hell believe in something—I believe in you.
3. You drive me insane. You completely derailed my life, and I couldn't be happier about it. Sonia Tam, I'm in love with you. I've been running into you all over this boat 'cause I kept wanting to ask if you'd go and dance with me, and now I've managed to make myself look like a gorram fool. Serves me right for—are you crying?

Sonia is. Every day she'd fought to be content with her deep ties to River, content with the crew's comradeship and her place on Serenity, despite wanting more, wanting something just for her. Being a doctor and a sister would just have to be enough, she'd told herself—because to be a lover would be too much to ask for.

Of course, blurting out how he felt and having the doctor burst into tears was not exactly what Mal would have chosen. Sonia did eventually manage to calm down and explain, though she sealed her reputation for tactlessness by starting out with: "I thought only a complete idiot would be attracted to me." To cut a long and rather awkward conversation short, the two of them concluded that they'd both managed to make themselves look like gorram fools and that neither of them were all that good at dancing—and that they were going anyway.

Osiris high society would likely have scorned the scene at the dance hall that night. Half of those in attendance were rebels, they would have pointed out, and the band had never been within coughing distance of a music academy. They would have raised an eyebrow at the pilot and the soldier in the slinky dress trying to waltz during the salsa tunes. They would have cringed at the sight of the mercenary gulping down drink after drink and eying every woman in his vicinity. They would have wondered aloud if the Companion's Guild knew one of their members kept such company as this. They would have snorted at the excessive frilliness of the cheerful girl's pink dress, as well as her apparent pride in the garment. They would have shaken their heads, pitying the slender, dark-haired girl whose dance partner is an enormous veteran with a half-re-grown beard. And they most definitely would have rolled their eyes at the Browncoat who keeps going right when he should be going left, and the woman who keeps dancing the wrong part by accident.

But it's safe to say that Serenity's crew does not care what Osiris high society would have thought of them. Least of all their medic, who's fought for her own freedom too long to surrender it to anyone—not to the Alliance, not to any bounty hunter or torturer, not even to her own fears. So that night, when Mal kisses her under the sky, Sonia is full of light, and laughter.

Heroism (noun)—Great bravery. Synonyms—Courage, grit, valor.

Derrial Book thought he'd find a little church on some border planet and be a Shepherd for them, hold prayer meetings and help the settlers plant gardens of strawberries and tomatoes and rosemary. He never expected that his place of worship would be a battered Firefly, that his flock would contain more doubters than believers, and that he would be constantly struggling to decide what was sinful and what wasn't.

Zoe Washburne thought she'd be a soldier and nothing but a soldier forever, with a life lived in the smoke and rubble of war and a death from the end of a gun, from sickness, or from the ships that rained fire from the sky. She never expected that the war would be over and she would remain—remain and thrive and love, fight with her husband and make up every time, sing lullabies to her daughter, and laugh with her crewmates.

Hoban Washburne thought he'd always be the jokester, entertaining whoever happened to be nearby with flashy shirts and plastic dinosaurs and stories of juggling geese and failed fry-cook opportunities. He never expected that the most extraordinary woman he'd ever met would fall in love with him, make him stop running, and send him aiming to misbehave with a crew who'd risk everything to bring the 'verse the truth.

Inara Serra thought she'd spend her life veiling her deep passions with polished gestures, a perfectly-toned voice, and a gracious smile, constantly shifting the masks she wore to accommodate her clients. She never expected that she'd find her greatest joy on a ship where grease smudges kept mysteriously getting on her clothes, her shuttle's engine often stalled, and her love for those around her brought her masks down.

River Tam thought she'd be the girl who did everything perfectly, everything from calculating speed and velocity in theoretical physics to dancing like a sugarplum fairy or black swan. She never expected that she'd be broken apart and shaped into a tool meant to kill mindlessly—much less that even through her own brokenness, she would find a star-filled sky, and people who'd dance with her, and more of a home than she'd ever had.

Jayne Cobb thought he'd live for the moment, live for his guns and his next drink, backing down when it suited him and fighting for his cut of a job if he bothered fighting at all. He never expected to find himself caring about a couple of stubborn soldiers, a kooky pilot, a too-happy mechanic, a dandified prostitute, a scarily astute Shepherd, a snob of a doctor, or a terrifying insane killer woman—but life's funny that way.

Kaylee Frye thought she'd never go farther from her family's homestead than the next settlement, to pick up an engine part or have a day at a cider pressing or maybe get to see some of them new-fangled ships from the Core if she was real lucky. She never expected to love a ship as much as she loves her girl Serenity, or to have seen all the sights, both horrifying and utterly glorious, that the 'verse has to offer an eager mechanic.

Malcolm Reynolds thought he had one purpose in life—to free the outer planets—and when he lost that war, he thought the best he could hope for was survival. He never expected that his life would have countless other purposes—to be a mosaic-maker for a crew of broken folk, to protect a graceful Reader with a burning secret in her brain, to tell the truth about a planet of dead, to hold a newborn child, to fall in love.

Sonia Tam thought she'd always look in the mirror and see the file cabinet, the seismograph, the brother who defined himself by his sister. She never expected that she'd see a woman who didn't need a hospital to save lives, who staged prison breakouts and started brawls and stood up to torturers, who engaged in shameless kissing in the infirmary, who loved River dearly but knew she needed to let her meimei fly free.

They never expected this, and yet here they are.

Logical? Not at all. Heroic? Absolutely.