The glare off of the sand was unbelievable. Simon shaded his eyes and tried to decide whether or not their escape from the kidnappers was a good idea or not. The sere landscape, harsh and uninviting, promised a slow death to the unprepared.
They weren’t prepared at all.
His mind listed the options. Exposure, thirst, hunger, heat stroke… listed, noted, and detailed. With bullet points. He resisted the bitter laughter. Even after a year and a half on the run, he still thought like a doctor. A soon to be roasted doctor, but one with a well-organized mind.
Simon supposed he should be grateful that the shuttle had landed more or less intact. He and River had walked away from the crash landing with only a couple of scrapes and bruises. And the cut on his forehead, which was itching like mad.
He spared a glance at his sister, glad to see her placid look. It may have been difficult to accept her “talents” on a normal day, but Simon found himself relying on them on the less than normal ones. If River was calm, either she had a workable plan, or knew something he didn’t want to think about. Instead, he thought about the intra-muscular transponder in her upper left triceps. He suddenly felt grateful for the ruckus that had caused him to place it there in the first place, and that no one ever seemed to look for it. Hopefully, Kaylee or Wash would remember where he had hidden the receiver in the infirmary soon, and be able to trace their location.
And rescue them, which would be a plus.
“Night’s coming, it’ll be cooler soon.” He started at River’s exclamation.
“Yes, mei-mei, but in the meantime, we need to find shelter.”
“Shuttle will be an oven.”
“I know.” Simon sighed. “We’re trying to find somewhere else to wait.”
“There.” She pointed, as far as Simon could tell, at a random point against the horizon. He squinted against the glare. “Shade, water. Everything we need.”
“Are you sure?”
She gave him one of her patented “You’re such an idiot,” looks, pulled at his hand, and led the way over the dunes.
River was right. She was always right. Not that it was much of an oasis, but there were some scrubby bushes to provide some shade, and a trickle of muddy water just under the surface dirt.
Simon pulled off his shirt, internally gauging how much time he had before he burned, and used the fabric to filter some of the dirt out. Choking briefly on the grit, he managed not to spit any of the precious fluid out.
“River, do you want any?”
Another look. Simon sighed again. At least he knew she was getting better. River ripped off a few inches of her dress’s hem, and dipped it into the water. Instead of trying for a complicated filter system, she pulled the strip up, and squeezed the water into her mouth.
Simon felt like a fool, ignoring the obvious. After cutting the edge off of their thirst, they crawled into the space under some scrub, Simon wearing his now damp and dirty shirt, to wait out the sun.
He couldn’t stop his mind from replaying the past eighteen hours. Why he had decided to leave Serenity in the first place was beyond him. And with River in tow, well, that was far from one of the most intelligent decisions ever made.
Simon was still not sure whether or not the group who had grabbed them was bounty hunters or just plain old kidnappers, attracted by some indefinable quality the pair had exuded. Not that it mattered, anymore.
“Hush, Simon,” his eyes flew open at the touch. River was curling up next to him, the sun was finally setting. “It’s all working out for the best.”
Finally, the events of the day caught up with the siblings, and they fell into a fitful doze, arms wrapped around each other against the plummeting desert temperatures.
He dreamt of Kaylee.
Her lips were sweet. (He had brought her mangoes the last time they had been planetside, and every kiss for the week thereafter had tasted tart-sweet. He hadn’t been able to find strawberries, unfortunately. There were some seriously decadent things she could do with strawberries). She straddled him during the hot kiss, and he grasped her hips, and ground against her heat. She groaned, and placed her hand over his eyes. He knew this game, it was easy enough to comply, and trace his lips along her jaw, along her throat. Salt of sweat, of desire, tempted his tongue. He licked and tasted everything he could reach, determined to memorize her by touch and taste only. His hands slid up her side, hands cupping her breasts, thumbs tracing intimate patterns.
(Her nipples were pink, with brown aureoles, above the golden flesh, he remembered.) No bra on today, he slid his tongue over the sensitive skin, as his thumb brushed the crease underneath. A quiet gasp above him, and he smiled even as he continued his efforts to drive her insane with desire.
He continued working on her breasts with his mouth, even as his hands slid down her side, causing her to quiver sensuously. Barely moving, he shifted a bit, and worked his hand into her heat, while holding her hip tightly with the other. Gathering a pearl of moisture on his thumb, he began to trace patterns on her oh so responsive flesh. Her body covered his, and licked at the gash on his forehead. He gasped, and pressed harder with both of his hands, causing her to twist just so. His thumb dug into her, swirling around the hardened nub of flesh.
She dug her hands into his arms, he bit her collarbone, and as she climaxed he felt her fluids course down his hand.
Surprisingly, he felt some resistance entering her. Numbed, focused on pure desire, he adjusted his legs, and thrust at a stronger angle. The constriction released, and he felt her shudder around him. Kissing away the few tears, he drove into her heat over and over again, until he released his passion in a white-hot torrent.
He should have awoken then.
That was usually the pattern of erotic dreams, right? The orgasm, then the sudden realization and slight embarrassment. Simon, however fell into a deeper sleep, drained by the heat, and only awoke to the roar of ship engines. Struggling against his tangled legs, he rose, seeing River’s outline against the bright lights of Serenity. It was early dawn, he guessed.
River came to stand next to him, disheveled, but smiling. “Told you.”
Simon couldn’t help but smile back, as the wind tossed their hair around. Serenity settled ponderously to the ground, and whined her main hatch open. Simon double-checked for items they had left behind out of pure force of habit. Of course there was nothing, and he had to rush a bit to catch up to his sister.
“You’d better be careful, son.” Mal had one of his sardonic grins on his face. “One would think you liked being rescued a mite too much.” Simon stumbled a bit crossing the threshold of the ship.
“Next time,” he retorted, “I’ll be sure to cross reference your schedule before we get kidnapped.” Simon smiled wryly to take some of the sting from his words, and Mal slapped him genially on the back. Then suddenly, Kaylee was upon him, legs and arms and hair and kisses.
“It worked, Simon!” Figures she would get this wound up about the transponder. “It worked so good, we barely had time to put the coordinates in before we found you!”
“Of course it worked, baobei” Simon pressed a final kiss to Kaylee’s lips, before placing her down, and extricating himself from her limbs. “It was your design, after all.”
Kaylee blushed a gorgeous shade of rose, and Simon was reminded of his dream, and why he loved her.
“Let me check the two of us out, xin gan, and I’ll join you in your bunk later,” he whispered in her ear, before letting go completely. She grinned back, and ran a finger down the center of his palm, making him shudder, before heading upstairs.
Mal came up behind him once more. “Work before play, hmm?” He cast an approving eye over Simon. “Knew I made a good decision keeping you on.”
“No, you didn’t.” Simon raised his eyebrow. “As a matter of fact, you still keep second guessing that decision, Captain.”
“Be that as it may, I am glad to see you and lil’ Sis well.” Mal paused, a thoughtful look on his face. “Those kidnappers ain’t likely to give us any more problems?”
Simon frowned, as that particular memory reasserted itself. “No, Captain. River and I took care of them. Permanently.” The expression on his face indicated that he didn’t want to talk about it further, so Mal let the subject drop.
“Well, then, to the infirmary with you.” With one last hearty slap, the older man sent Simon deeper into the ship.
It was a good feeling to be back home. Simon felt much more like himself after he bathed and put on clean clothes. River had gotten cleaned up as well, and was being very cooperative as he led her into the infirmary. She lay down on the examining table, her eyes glowing as she looked at her brother.
“Something amusing, River?”
“I love you, Simon.”
He smiled down at her. “I love you too. I just need to make sure you’re well after that ordeal.”
“Feel good.”
“That’s nice,” he replied absently, searching for some disinfectant for a small scratch. A little dehydration, a bit of sunburn, River and he were in good shape, all things considered.
“Mei-mei…,” he began.
“Survival of the fittest.” She sighed. “No real choice or chance.”
Simon echoed her sigh. “I suppose not. Still, you… I mean, we killed all four of those men.”
“There are boundaries we shouldn’t cross. But we did. No choices, Simon.” She stretched out her hand, and grabbed onto his. “I’m yours, you’re mine. We’ll always be together. I’ll help you forever.”
“I know that, River. It’s just…,” Simon closed his eyes, and shook his head, unable to continue. Extricating himself from the tiny grip, he retrieved a syringe from his tray,
“Love you, ge-ge,” she insisted.
“Yes, River, I love you too.” He slid the needle into her arm. “Time to get some rest.” Leaning down, he ghosted his lips over her forehead, as she sighed in frustration, and turned away.
“Never understand me… can’t listen… won’t hear…” she mumbled and drifted off. It was Simon’s turn to be frustrated. There was so little he could do to really help her. He was a trauma surgeon, not a neurologist. So many times, he was afraid his mucking about was only making things worse. But, still, he had to try.
Frowning slightly, he caught a glimpse of a strange mark just below her collar. He peeled the shirt back, trying to remember if she had touched anything that would cause an allergic reaction. Lightly touching it, Simon suddenly felt a sense of foreboding. Possibly impending panic. There was something disturbingly familiar about the mark.
“No,” he whispered to himself. “I couldn’t have… she couldn’t…”
He turned, and left the room to retrieve River’s torn dress from the laundry. Hurrying, trying not to hyperventilate, Simon returned to the infirmary to utilize the better lighting.
It was stained. Traces of blood… and semen. There was no need for analysis. He had been with River every single second of their ordeal. No one else. The kidnappers had not touched either of them beyond the tying up. Oh, God, there was no mistake.
Simon felt the blood drain from his face, heard it rushing in his ears, and barely caught himself on the counter as he stumbled backwards. “Tzao gao,” he whispered as he slid to floor. “What have I done?”