Name: Flannery Chalke

Title: Serenity: Allegro

Rating: K+ (eventually T for language and anything else I can think up.)

Disclaimer: All characters (w/ the exception of Liz) come from the mind of Joss Whedon. They belong to him, Mutant Enemy, Fox, Universal, and anyone else with legal hold. I'm just along for the ride.

Please please please review!

Chapter 1 – The Departure

She left a hologram on the pilot's chair in a brown paper envelope. At times, this act hurt Simon Tam more than his sister's actual departure, that Captain Malcolm Reynolds had found it first, had seen it first. She'd given no notice, no sign of unhappiness, she wasn't getting better or worse. She wasn't showing unease at his budding relationship with Kaylee. One night she sat with the crew and the next morning she was gone. And she'd let Mal know first.

Mal had to watch it twice to believe the mechanical rendering of River's serene voice. At the word "leave" he stopped listening in shock and had to rewind to hear the message in its entirety. He gave the hologram to Simon without a word and the crew gathered in the galley to watch River's translucent torso, River in a torn sweater with brown hair cascading, hazel eyes swimming with unshed tears in a moment of lucidness they'd never seen in her before.

"I'm sorry Simon, everyone, to leave like this. But I've found someone who can fix me. He can take the demons away. You worked so hard, and you saved me Simon; you've always taken care of me. But you can't fix me. It's my turn to try. Please don't come looking for me Simon. You wont find me. I don't want you to. I am so so sorry Simon. But, I think I've found," she paused, "hope. Hope for serenity." The hologram fizzled and Mal unplugged it.

Simon's hands cradled his head. "She has no money, no food, no contacts. How is she…she doesn't know how to protect herself." He shuddered at Kaylee's attempt at embrace and she withdrew looking sad and hurt. The arms of his sweater muffled Simon's lamentations.

Mal sighed. River was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and she had a co-pilots salary to keep her going, a minor monetary transaction they'd slipped behind Simon's radar on more than one occasion. In truth, River would be fine, but Simon was another matter. He'd dedicated the past two years to fixing River and this was a clear vocalization of what the crew had feared. Simon didn't know how to fix River, and now, faced with that fact and the loss of his beloved sister, he buckled under fear and resignation.

"Well, I guess there's nothin' we can do now," Mal sighed again. This was all too much.

"Yes we can, we can go look for her." Simon bolted out of his chair, knocking it over. Mal took several steps and grabbed the man by the shoulders.

"Think for a moment, will you. We're on Persephone, one o' the largest planets in Allied space. She could be anywhere, she could be miles from here, and there's not a gorram thing we can do to find her. No way to track her, none." Simon struggled against the captain's hands and his own helplessness.

"I suggest you sit tight and deal with whatever you've got sittin' on you. I need to fire this boat up 'cause in case anyone's forgotten, we got a job to do." He turned quickly and started towards the cockpit. Zoë turned to follow.

"She's family," the broken voice called from behind him, "If she were Zoë or Jayne or Kaylee, you'd tear this world apart until you found them. You said so yourself, River is a member of this crew, and she's family. Your family and mine." Simon's voice rose.

"And yet you're not doing ANYTHING." The distraught doctor swung a clumsy punch, lost his balance, and fell into Mal. He nodded at Kaylee who took the weight of Simon from him. Mal motioned to Zoë who helped Kaylee set Simon down and went to get him a drink. Simon went slack in Kaylee's arms.

Mal continued his trek to the cockpit, and, making sure no one had followed him, took the stolen hologram from the pocket of his brown trousers. He set it into the reader once more.

"I'm sorry Simon, everyone, to leave like this. But I've found someone who can fix me. He can take the demons away. You worked so hard, and you saved me Simon; you've always taken care of me. But you can't fix me. It's my turn to try. Please don't come looking for me Simon. You wont find me. I don't want you to. I am so so sorry Simon. But, I think I've found," she paused, "hope. Hope for serenity."

The hologram fizzled and continued,

"You help him Mal. You keep him with you." The hard eyes hardened, "You don't come lookin' for me, understand? You understand Mal; I need this, to be whole again. This is my chance." She cocked her head to one side, typical River.

"You say love keeps a ship flying when it shouldn't, when it's broken into tiny pieces. Love doesn't work on me. Not from Simon. Not from you."

The image went dead.

Mal leaned forward and rested his forehead on his palm.

Three Years Later…

It was raining on Beaumonde, which did nothing to slacken the brightness of the planet-city's fluorescent lights and holograms swimming with Chinese characters. The battered ship Serenity made a rickety landing and its tired crew trudged out one by one into the wetness.

The past three years hadn't been kind to the good ship Serenity and its crew. Simon had emotionally shriveled up without River. He mourned her as though she was dead, and, in effect, she was. They'd heard nothing from her in three years, nor were there any new information on the cortex that suggested she might have been captured or still on the run. His constant brooding damaged his relationship with Kaylee, whose affections remained unwavering nonetheless. Her ready smile slowed.

Zoë never recovered from the death of Wash, her husband. Reevers had killed him on the distant planet Miranda a year before River's departure. Her wry sense of humor was the first to go, closely followed by her sense of compassion. She'd never been outspoken in the first place, only speaking when she thought it was necessary or when spoken to, but now, she saw no reason to do it at all. She answered Mal and the rest of the crew, who at the beginning went out of their way to engage her in conversation, but after several of these sessions, it just wasn't worth it. Like Simon, Zoë too became robotic, and worse, methodical with military precision. She did her job, targeted the bad guy, and took him out with less thought of her own well-being. She was injured more often and more severely, and Simon, also precise, patched her up without comment.

Jayne, always roguish, had also been injured. A particularly bad shot to the chest kept him infirm for over a month, much to the mercenary's chagrin.

Serenity saw one addition to the crew, a computer specialist named Elizabeth Hecht. She was on the run and she was funny, and given the bleak mood of Serenity's current passengers, Mal took her on the latter alone. She proved useful enough on the occasional job; she could hack and mess with electric wiring, and thus earned her passage along with everyone else.

Beaumonde's dark sky was as black as the crew's mood. Serenity was out of food, out of gas, and in need of minor repair. After making sure Simon was under Zoë's hawkeyed watch, Kaylee disappeared into the black in search of new parts. Liz, wrapped in a waterproof cloak, followed her. Mal and Jayne melted through the crowds in the busy street. The rain made everyone clumsy and hurried, and in no time the two made their way to the Snake Charmer, a seedy club known for the owner's fine collections of exotic serpents and women.

Mal tried to brush the wet off his coat and ran a hand through his soaking hair. He and Jayne checked their guns and worked their way to the back of the club. Jayne hungrily eyed the scantly clad women dangling large snakes from their necks. Moving slowly so as not to draw any unwanted attention, the two thieves made their way behind a fake rock outcropping, part of the club's strange décor. Mal flashed a card to a partially hidden bouncer, and a side panel opened. With a quick glance behind, Mal slipped through the hole in the wall. Jayne followed.

They immediately recognized their contact sitting at a table at the back of the room. All tables ran games of chance and betting with tiny holograms showing wagers. Women, ships, artifacts, all were fair game. However, this was not Mal's purpose and he sat down across from Viper. The man was famous for his giant ear spacers in which two baby vipers hung. Tiny sacks of the snake's poisonous venom rested underneath his long yellow fingernails and would burst on contact, seeping into the flesh wound of an adversary. Mal always kept one eye on Viper's hands.

A tray appeared and the three men took the traditional shots of firewater. It was a sign of truce, that men were more or less more honest when slightly intoxicated. Mal shook his head, trying to clear the buzz.

"Here's a sample, but there's more where it came from." Mal set a glass vial on the table. "And that was gorram hard to get, so you'd better be willing to pay askin'…"

Before he could finish, gunshots rang out from the club's main room. In the alcove, the shady figures were hastily shoving money and papers into bags and pockets and looking for alternate ways out. Viper snatched the vial and took off running. He swiped a decorative curtain aside and ran down a flight of stairs with Mal and Jayne in hot pursuit.

The stairs led to a long and dimly lit corridor. A booming bass line suggested that they were underneath an adjacent club. They followed footsteps up to the main floor. Viper was making his way across the dance floor. The tiny snakes waved their forked tongues at the dancers, most of which were too drugged to notice. Deciding to take a cautious route, Mal worked his way along the walls. Viper lugged himself up a staircase to the second floor balcony and fell exhausted into a chair. His gestures suggested that he was now in the company of henchmen, and despite the noise and haze of the club, Mal could make out two words distinctly, "soma," the drug in the vial, and "Serenity."

"Jayne, they're goin' to try for the rest of the supply on the ship. You've gotta get back there, and wave Zoë and Simon. Someone needs to protect that boat, and I've got a score to settle with this rat bastard."

Jayne took off in the direction of the main exit and Mal continued to make his way toward the balcony stairs. Its ledge wasn't very wide; there was just enough room for a few tables and a tiny bar from which Viper was liberally helping himself. Mal drew his gun.

"I'm expectin' some payment. I took a nasty one right between the shoulder blades getting my hands on your soma, not to mention a few ruffled hairs. Now normally I'm not one for fussing, but you see, I was havin' a good hair day. Lookin' at your clientele, I'd say you're more than capable of making a profit, so pay up."

A cocked gun to his right temple made Mal's grin falter slightly, but he tried to maintain composure. The thug holding it grunted sadistically.

"Was that yer companion went out few minutes ago? 'Cause the way I see it, yer in no place to be makin' any demands." Viper leaned back in his chair and downed a shot of firewater.

"Now gents, I'm fraid I don't see the problem. I'm not lookin' to run out with your fairy dust, I'm just looking for some money. Your runnin' out back there didn't make for the noblest behavior. Where's the honor among thieves."

Viper laughed, "I think we're all gonna take a little walk back to yer ship. I know you keep a light crew; they shouldn't be a problem, specially if you tell 'em to stand down. They're a loyal crew, aren't they Capt'n? They won't fight seeing as I've got a bullet for yer brain, will they?"

A sickening crack crunched next to his right ear and Mal ducked as the gun went flying out of the thug's hand. It shot Mal's bullet right between Viper's eyes. He fell to the ground, the tiny vipers hissing at the disturbance. A booted foot whipped over his head, knocking another thugs gun away, and a gloved hand landed a punch to his neck, dropping him cold. Mal worked his way back to the stairs as the veiled figure incapacitated the rest of the gang, and before he could speak, it grabbed his arm and pulled him down the stairs and through the crowd.

The lights, the noise, and the alcohol swimming in his veins made it hard to comprehend what exactly was happening. He knew he'd been saved, that Serenity was in serious danger, and his arm was being pulled hard.

Never dropping his arm, the figure pulled him through the crowed streets. Mal looked back once and saw several hooded figures trying to follow. They opened fire despite the crowds. Most ducked and screamed, and his guide took a quick turn. They wove through the maze of streets and alleyways, the hoods always following behind.

The rain lightened up, and Mal began to notice changes. There were fewer painted signs and street vendors, fewer homeless people sleeping on the walks and begging for change. They passed a gilded street sign and his companion slowed to a quick walk. The covered face turned and looked back. Mal did as well and saw the thugs hesitate. This was the Alliance quadrant, and there was one rule on Beaumont. If you didn't bother the Alliance territory, they didn't go out of their way to bother you.

Mal's veiled guide turned another corner and entered through large doors into a well-lit lobby. It dropped his hand and pulled a mirror out of the folds of its cloak. It was angled specifically to catch the feed behind the security desk. Mal could see the hooded figures had decided to risk exposure and were wandering down the vibrant street searching for their targets. The figure made to grab his wrist, but Mal pulled away. Deciding to leave him behind, it took off across the lobby and Mal stumbled to follow.

Unfortunately this caught the attention of a thug who happened to looking at the building's etched glass doors, and he took off after the fugitives.

Mal turned a corner and swore. His guide was gaining distance down the corridor and Mal spurred himself on. The hood, still in pursuit, managed to view the flap of Mal's brown coat as he turned another corner.

Mal didn't realize until too late that his guide had stopped running and tripped in his attempt to stop himself. The figure pulled him up and made to keep going.

"Stop…stop…River, stop," Mal pleaded, fighting for breath. His head was still fuzzy, and it made the sound of approaching footsteps thud. The head whipped back and Mal caught the glaring hazel eyes through his haze, the last thing he'd seen three years ago on the hologram announcing her departure.

River whipped off her cloak and veils. She hasn't changed, he thought as she reached forward and pulled off his wet coat. Same wavy brown hair, same piercing eyes. River threw their garments behind a large potted plant, and taking his arm, she led him forward.

His shock and lack of oxygen had kept him from noticing the tinkling sound of laughter and clinking glasses in a room up ahead. Despite their obvious neglect of dress code, no one noticed the girl in a swishy torn frock and torn black leggings and the man with an empty leather gun holster. She took up dance position, and to the music, led him across the room.

He didn't know how to dance but always astute, River led them through changes in formation and direction. He tried to catch her eyes once more, if only to convince himself that it actually was her, but no, she had her eyes on the door, on the guards, on the security cameras. She was still a weapon, but she'd mastered control. They changed formation, and Mal found himself facing the direction River had previously occupied.

"So, how'd you know it was me?"

"Well xiao mei-mei, you've got a pretty distinct fightin' style. My question is how'd you know it was me?"

"I'm not exactly xiao mei-mei anymore. And you forget." She tilted her head to one side and made a crazy face. He shook his head.

"Wait, spin me," she demanded quickly, and Mal lifted his arm to let her through. While turning, she glanced back. The thug had given up and no one else had followed. The two danced back to their entrance point. After checking for spectators, Mal fished his coat out from behind the plant, but River shook her head when he lifted her veils. She grinned.

"I don't need those anymore."

Mal couldn't help but smile and took her hand as they walked down a different hall, which River assured him was a viable way out. It really was River, alive, and he was holding her flesh. She had to be real.

Though he would never admit it, he'd dreamed of finding her, stumbling across her path. Sometimes by accident, sometimes by grand entrance, but she would always smile. She'd fix herself and fold once more into Serenity's tiny family. Because she was family, and like it or not, he needed her as much as anyone else on that boat. She would fix Simon who would fix Kaylee and maybe Zoë; she'd get to meet Liz. River squeezed his hand.

"Yes, you found me." The serene voice had changed. It was soft but sure in a way it never was before, in a way it wasn't capable of before.

Suddenly she shifted. River pushed Mal against a wall and took his head in her hands.

"Trust me," she whispered and brought her mouth down on his. Soft lips met with a quiet intensity he hadn't experienced in years. His first impulse was to push her away, it was River after all, but in confusion and personal conflict, his hands floundered and finally rested on her tiny shoulders. Special hell be damned, he was slightly drunk, cold, and this felt nice. She shifted her head and whispered, "Neck."

By this time it was obvious that several men were walking toward the couple, and they sounded extremely angry. Mal couldn't help but hesitate; after all, still River here, she'd been gone for three years and now his senses had the added befuddlement from the vanished sensation of his first kiss in months. His lips slowly met the soft skin under her ear and his hand moved to her tiny waist.

"There's a gun strapped to my left thigh. You'll need it," the tiny voice whispered again. Lips still pressed to her neck, Mal reached down and let his hand trail up her thigh under the wavy skirt of her dress. He pulled it from the holster but let his hand remain hidden under the cloth. Alliance security surrounded them.

"Separate, the both of you," a helmeted man commanded. Mal raised his head to evaluate the situation, his vision partially obstructed by River's cascading hair. He noticed her eyes flicker in his periphery. She could see the security team reflected in his eyeballs. An officer moved forward and grabbed River's shoulder, aiming to separate them by force.

Two sets of eyes met briefly, and before Mal could respond to her silent call for action, River's boot kicked back between the legs of an approaching officer. River turned with a tiny squelch and the leg kicked high shattering through the officer's helmet. His screams resounded through the hallway and Mal ducked to avoid the gunfire.

They were no match for River Tam. Mal tried to aim at the weak points in the team's body armor, but what was the point? River jabbed, ducked, punched, and dived from person to person, dodging bullets and clumsy attempts at self-protection. It was beautiful, graceful, and over in less a minute.

She didn't even need a moment to catch her breath. Mal's gaze was drawn to River's boot. A small bloody knife protruded through the heel and toe. She shifted her weight and they silently disappeared into the worn base.

"I'll meet you at the ship, I know where it is. I've gotta get something" She turned to leave.

"River no. You can't just disappear again. You can't do that t' Simon. Or to me."

She turned, her face pained, but she looked and met his eyes once more.

"I'm coming home. Don't you fret." And with that, she took off.