A Gift From: telaryn
Type Of Gift: Fic & Wallpaper
Title: Keep Her In the Air (When She Ought To Fall Down)
A Gift For: eiluned
Rating: NC-17
Warnings:
Summary/Prompt Used: Believe it or not, babyfic collided in my brain with the idea of a Firefly AU. Angst with a happy ending played a part as well because...it's me.
Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff were born - and in Natasha's case bred - to serve the Alliance. No one cared when they began sleeping together; under Alliance law an Operative like Natasha could take as many sexual partners as she liked so long as it didn't interfere with her duties.
A baby would interfere. As would the very deep and very illegal feelings growing between the Operative and her favorite sniper.
Now married and on the run for a new life on the Rim, with a baby due literally any moment, Clint and Natasha cross paths with the crew of Serenity.
Author's Note: Stepped a little far outside my comfort zone with this one, but when a story idea hits you as hard as this one hit me you just have to respect the muse and run with it. Hope it's everything you wanted, eiluned!


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“I don’t suppose we can all take a moment and think about this?” Clint was pretty sure he’d read somewhere that pregnant women weren’t supposed to be stressed out. Okay maybe he hadn’t read it, maybe he’d just heard it, but he was reasonably certain it was a thing. “You folk go your way, we go ours, no harm no foul?” He forced himself to ignore his wife’s furious expression, counting himself grateful that she’d chosen to hold her tongue for the moment. Natasha’s temper was always a chancy business, especially when she was forced to deal with people who were so clearly beneath her.

The knife against her very pregnant belly was a game changer though, otherwise Clint would have been happy enough to indulge her and leave the lot of them trying to breathe through their own blood. Not to mention we stay here much longer we’re going to be drawing all kinds of local color. “Drop any weapons you’re carrying,” the leader of the group called out, “along with any coin, and step away from those supplies.”

Out here orders like that were the same as putting a bullet in each of their heads. Losing weapons and coin were bad enough, but without their supplies they were completely humped. Clint needed an opening and fast. “Then you’ll let my wife loose?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation going while he figured out a plan.

“Then we might let you live!”

That tore it. Clint risked looking directly at his wife then, letting Natasha know that he understood they were going to have to fight their way clear of this mess. He saw the muscles of her arms tense under her close-fit sleeves and readied himself to take the shot as soon as it presented itself.

“There a problem here?”

The sudden appearance of strangers in their midst threw everybody off their stride. Clint swore softly and eased back off the hammer of his gun. “No problem of yours, ‘less you want to make it so,” the head tough snarled, swinging his gun around to cover the newcomers. Clint marked a brown duster and eyes that were much colder than the jovial expression the speaker wore. Those eyes took in the entire scene before returning to rest on the man who believed himself in charge.

“We’re not looking for trouble,” the Browncoat said calmly, “but the lady there doesn’t seem to like the amount of attention your man is giving her. Perhaps if you’d consider…”

Clint would have sworn to anyone who’d listen that pregnancy had put Natasha’s normally iron-clad control on a hair trigger. It was the only explanation that fit her decision to move at just that moment. Bone snapped and suddenly the small courtyard was filled with screams of pain, yells of effort, and more gunfire than Clint had wanted to face under the circumstances.

More than he wanted, but definitely not more than he could handle. At least two of the men went down to shots fired by him, and as a third tried to flee Clint pivoted and brought him down with a single shot to the back of the head. It was only when he swung back, looking for another target, that he realized Natasha was down on one knee in the dirt, her breathing loud and blood dripping steadily from somewhere on her stomach.

Swearing in three languages, Clint jammed his gun back into its holster and raced to her side. “Not…deep,” she managed, but Clint could tell right away that whatever had happened she was in more pain than she could manage, and the baby clearly did not approve of any of it.

“Name’s Mal Reynolds,” their unexpected savior said, appearing suddenly on Natasha’s other side. “We can get a doctor here in a couple of shakes if you want?”

It went against every instinct Clint had to trust someone with such obviously Independent leanings, but Mal Reynolds had gotten involved in their mess when he didn’t have to and his offer of help seemed genuine. Natasha settled the matter for him by gripping his arm so hard he knew he’d be showing bruises before the day was out. “Thank you,” he said, nodding at Mal as he settled Tasha’s arm more securely around his shoulder and braced himself to help her stand.

“Zoe!” The woman who had been backing him up moved in to take Mal’s place on Natasha’s other side. “Jayne and me, we’ll bring your gear,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“Clint,” he responded automatically. He and Tash had talked about aliases when they’d left the Core, but had somehow never managed to settle on anything. We somehow managed to miss doing a lot of things.

Zoe eased Natasha’s other arm around her shoulder. “What’s her name?” she asked, catching Clint’s eye and pulling him back from the brink of his own regrets.

Normally Tash hated when he spoke for her, but any response she might have wanted to make herself was swallowed in a cry of pain that tore straight through Clint. “Natasha,” he said as they took their first impossibly slow steps to the street.Oh God, she’s not going to make it. He could feel how much pain she was in with every step, and her grip on him was starting to tremble.

“All right Natasha,” Zoe said, her voice rich and soothing, “I just need you to hang in there with us a little bit longer. We’ve got us a mule on board ship; Captain’s going to put in a call, and they’ll come pick us up.”

“Maybe we should just wait then?” Clint asked, but Natasha’s scream of frustration only mirrored the expression on Zoe’s face.

“It’s best after something like this we get as much distance as possible,” Zoe added as the three of them spilled out into the street. “Were you two headed off planet?” Ahead of them Clint saw a transport trying to thread its way through the crowds of people thronging the streets. A man with blond curls was driving, with another man standing on the seat just behind him – pointing in their direction.

“Like you said,” he agreed breathlessly, “trying to get as much distance as possible.” Praying that he’d been right in how he’d interpreted Natasha’s decision to trust these folk he added, “You ever take on passengers?”

“From time to time,” Zoe said. “Captain’s discretion.”

“I can pay,” Clint said, but Zoe shook her head.Not now. was as clear as if she’d said the words aloud.

“Wash!” she called instead, waving to the transport. When it was a few feet away from their position, the man who had been standing leapt to the ground and raced to their side.

“I’m a doctor,” he said to Clint, but his focus was for Natasha. “Call me Simon.” He bent down until he could catch Tash’s eye. “Are you having contractions?” Clint’s heart sank again as he watched her weakly nod her head. “Do you know how far along you are?”

“Between thirty two and thirty six weeks standard,” Clint said when she didn’t immediately answer. “We’ve been traveling.” Somewhere between Ariel and Whitefall he’d lost track, but whatever he’d said seemed to be enough. Simon turned and motioned to his companion – the blond haired man Zoe had hailed as “Wash” threw him a black doctor’s bag. “I’m going to give her something to try and slow down the contractions,” he said, rifling through the contents and pulling out a syringe. “It won’t hurt the baby, and it’ll give us time to deal with whatever’s causing the bleeding.”

“You okay with that?” Clint asked his wife, only half-expecting she would be able to answer.

She raised her head though, and his throat tightened as he saw how much pain she was in. “Do it,” she said, her voice rough and broken.

Clint held her as steady as he could while Simon gave her the shot. Mal and Jayne were loading their equipment on the transport. Zoe and Wash were talking in low tones.What are we doing? It was all happening so quickly, but Clint honestly didn’t know what other choices were open to them anymore, given how things had spun.

“It’s going to hit her pretty fast,” Simon said. “Can you lift her? We can settle her in the back of the mule.”

Nodding, Clint shifted his hold on his wife. “Tash? Baby, put your arms around my neck. I’m going to pick you up.”

Whatever the doctor had given her was already taking effect; Natasha suddenly seemed to be having a lot of trouble coordinating her movements. Clint finally scooped her up in his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder as he headed for the rear of the transport.

“’s not deep,” he heard her whisper as he laid her down in an empty space in the back.

“It’s still bleeding Tash,” he said, hoisting himself up alongside her. “And we don’t know what’s going on with the baby.” Reaching out, he brushed her sweat-soaked hair back off her forehead. “We’ve got a doctor here though – he’s going to make you all better.” He glanced up at Simon as the young man scrambled up next to them, hoping he wasn’t over-selling the kid’s ability.

Natasha’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Wet,” she whimpered.

Simon swore under his breath. “Wash, go!” he yelled, reaching down to pull Natasha’s skirt to her knees. “Her water’s broken,” he said, looking at Clint as he reached up under the now soaking wet cloth. Clint reflexively caught Tash’s wrists in his hands, holding her back so she couldn’t unintentionally attack the doctor. “This baby’s coming – sooner rather than later.”
**********************************
“Next time I make the plan,” Natasha grumbled, shifting closer to Clint. The world had gone softer than she normally liked things, but whatever the doctor had given her had allowed her to get some distance from the overwhelming pain of the contractions. Even the steady throb of the slash on her stomach was easier to breathe her way through.

“It’s a deal,” Clint said, crossing her arms over her chest so that he was embracing her while still reminding her not to lash out at people who might be trying to help her. She accepted the provisional restraint mostly because it was easier than arguing at this stage of things.

A rising note of pain in her abdomen signaled the onset of another contraction. Breathe… she thought, forcing herself to take a slow, calming breath and sort everything out.

Now that everything seemed to be working a bit more normally, she felt more confident about her ability to deal with what was happening. “That’s good,” she heard the doctor say as she rode the contraction to its peak. “Very good.” Drawn by his voice, Natasha tried to focus on the man who ostensibly held her future and the future of their baby in his hands. Simon was looking past her – she presumed at Clint. “It looks like the bleeding is finally slowing down. I’ll know more when we get her into my sick bay.”

I know you. The thought was entirely unexpected as she breathed through the ebb of the contraction. The more she tasted it though, the more certain was that Simon – whoever he was – was someone important enough for her to professionally recognize.

She wondered if Clint had made the same connection – and if so, what he thought?

Before she could chase that thought to its conclusion, the warning signs of another contraction were on her. All right, little one, she thought, regulating her breathing as the pain began to swell again. We’ll play this by your tune.

Time slipped as her focus was drawn inexorably inward. They had given up so much leading up to this moment – it had been difficult to process it all. Love, partnership, children; the things ordinary people took for granted were forbidden to Operatives. Natasha had been raised from girlhood to understand that she belonged body and soul to the Alliance. Nothing came before her duty. Nothing could.

Sex was a slightly more gray area. So long as they were careful Operatives were allowed the occasional physical liaison, and when she laid eyes on the sniper assigned to back her up on a mission, Natasha knew she’d found somebody worth the risk. He’d been more than willing too – fucking her up against the wall of their safe house the first time with most of their clothes still in place.

He had skill and stamina and a willingness to please that would have made him an attractive bed partner even if he hadn’t been so aggressively good looking. A second night turned into a third, a fifth, a tenth – and before Natasha fully understood what she had gotten herself into they were seeking each other out during down times as well, without the adrenaline rush of a mission to excuse their actions.

She was the one who finally acknowledged how far off the rails they were threatening to spin; Clint was too busy at the time, kissing his way down the valley between her breasts. “People are going to talk,” she gasped as he worried a particularly sensitive area of skin at the top of her stomach with his teeth. “We need to pull back. We need to…” She cried out as he penetrated her with two fingers, arching her back and rocking her hips down and forward until he was buried inside her to the knuckle.

Keeping his hand cupped over her mound, Clint used the calloused edge of his thumb to rhythmically stroke her clit. “What was that?” he asked, pushing up on his free arm so that she could see the wicked gleam in his storm-colored eyes. “I didn’t quite hear that last bit.” Before she could call him any of the names flashing through her mind he scissored his fingers so that he brushed across her g-spot – making her come.

“I could watch you do this forever,” he said a moment later, something akin to reverence in his voice as his clever fingers drew her orgasm out to an almost intolerable length. “Something this beautiful can’t be real.”

It was the first time she’d ever had a climax so intense she’d lost consciousness. When she woke hours later, Clint’s arms around her, her head pillowed on his shoulder, Natasha finally understood just how far she had fallen. There would be no letting go, no pulling back; not for either of them – not anymore.

And then she’d turned up pregnant. Natasha knew she would never forget how terrified she’d been to say the words to anyone, least of all Clint. She had even gone so far as to consider terminating the pregnancy without letting him know anything had happened, but in the end she knew she would never be able to keep such a thing secret. Not from him.

Not anymore.

“Do you want this?” was the first thing he’d asked, and even though she’d never exactly told him Natasha understood that was the moment she knew what she had been feeling for Clint was love.

That feeling only grew and deepened as she assured him that she did genuinely want the baby growing inside her. “I’ve made plans,” he said quietly, taking her hands and drawing her down next to him on the edge of the bed. “Contacts. People who can provide us with new identities and get us out of the Core. It’d be a hard life on the Rim, but we’d be out of the Alliance’s reach and we could be together.”

He’d looked so young and uncertain then that Natasha had almost broken down in tears. “I want to be a family with you, Tash. You and this baby – I swear I will do right by both of you if you just give me a chance.”

He wanted her for more than the pleasure she could give him, and he wanted her in spite of all the laws that forbade it. It was heady knowledge, and she couldn’t say anything in response but ‘yes’. The lovemaking that followed between them had been sweet, gentle and slow. Clint had taken the lead, worshipping every inch of her skin he could reach, until Natasha was swearing at him and pulling him in as close as she could.

”I love you so much.” That time was the first time either of them had said the words, and when he slid inside her a heartbeat later, they each had tears in their eyes.

“Tash! Tash, baby, look at me.” With some effort she managed to pull herself free of the lure of the past to focus on that same man looking down on her in the present. “We have to get you to the sick bay. Don’t hit anyone – nobody is attacking you.”

She tried to say something – anything to take the fear out of his eyes – but another contraction was on her now, stronger than before. Nodding vigorously instead, she allowed them to lift her out of the mule and carry her. Vague impressions of ship’s walls and the clang of metal under booted feet drifted across her awareness, but concern for the baby overrode everything else.

“Get her on the table.”

Control slipped for a moment as they settled her in place. Natasha screamed, feeling the pain threatening to drag her under again.

“Tash…Tash honey, breathe.” Clint gripped her hand. “Come on, baby. You can do this.”

Natasha was trying to focus on his voice and the feel of his skin against hers, but somebody brushed against her leg. Reacting entirely on instinct, she lashed out with a kick and a moment later heard a grunt of pain.

“Everybody out! Out!” The new speaker was a woman, a voice she hadn’t heard before – clear, sharp and commanding, without the soft undertones Zoe’s voice had carried.

Pain exploded outward, claiming her before she could process all the new information. “I can’t,” she keened, trying to curl onto her side towards Clint. “I can’t…I can’t…I can’t…” She caught a glimpse of her husband’s openly stricken expression and her own determination flagged even further.

“Natasha! Natasha, look at me!” The woman’s voice again; there was something about it that demanded obedience. Craning her neck around until she could see the speaker, Natasha glared at the dark haired woman through her tears.

“My name is Inara,” she said, clearly unimpressed by any threat Natasha hoped to convey. “Your baby needs you on top of your game now, not sobbing like some mindless infant.”

Anger flashed through her, but Natasha forced herself into a slow inhale-exhale rhythm – struggling to shove the overwhelming pain back into its proper place. “Help me get her settled,” Inara said, looking across at Clint. Natasha didn’t resist them shifting her around. She was starting to feel more in control again, and the feeling made her calmer.

“I need to examine you,” Simon said. He was standing near the foot of the table, but at a respectful distance. Natasha wondered briefly if he had been the one she’d kicked, but discarded the idea on realizing he only looked wary – not injured.

“Clint?” she asked breathlessly, looking up at her husband. He understood immediately and looked across at Inara.

“We need to hold her ankles,” he said. “She won’t mean to attack him, but it isn’t a sure thing.”
A heavy, thick pressure slammed into Natasha as Clint and Inara moved into position, bowing her back and tearing a scream from her throat. “I thought so,” she heard someone say. “Natasha, listen to me.” She struggled to focus and saw Simon trying to get her attention. “You’re in transition. I know you want to push – I need you to hold off that urge until I say.”

He demonstrated a breathing pattern. Nodding, Natasha repeated it and felt the renewed stirrings of pressure ease. A hand slipped into hers; she ticked her attention to the left and saw Clint trying to hold her hand as well as her ankle. Smiling through her breathing, she tugged at him until he understood that the danger of her accidentally knocking Simon – or anyone else – unconscious had passed.

For now…
***********************************
Memory of the promises he’d made to Natasha before they’d fled the Core came backto Clint as he watched her settle into a rapport with Simon. This is really happening.

“Clint, take her other hand,” Simon said, catching his eye. “The baby’s starting to crown.”

Inara moved silently around them, passing Simon things before he asked for them and taking them away when he was finished. Clint repositioned himself as Simon had directed – Natasha was starting to show the strain of holding back. Her grip on his hands was edging gradually into true pain. “You ready for this?” he asked, kissing her temple.

In the midst of her breathing he heard a small huff of laughter. “Idiot,” she gasped.

Perversely, the insult made him feel better. Despite all the madness, all the pain, the woman he’d fallen in love with, the woman he’d pledged his life to was still here.This is really happening.

“Okay, Natasha,” Simon called, “when I say, I want you to bear down and push as hard as you can. Three…two…push!”

Pain exploded along Clint’s nervous system as Tash braced herself against him – squeezing his hands and bearing down with every ounce of strength she had left. “That’s good,” Simon said, his voice barely audible over her yell of effort. “That’s very good…okay, hold it!”

Natasha’s answering scream of frustration would have terrified most people. Clint stood his ground as best he could, making himself her rock as she struggled against the overpowering need to bring the life inside her out into the world.

At the other end of the table, Simon was busy doing something; towels and surgical equipment were being passed back and forth between him and Inara. After what seemed like an eternity he glanced up. “Okay Natasha – one good long push and I think that will do it.”

It was only later when Clint would realize that his entire body had tensed along with Natasha as she made that final, seemingly endless push. In the moment he knew nothing but the feel of her body straining against his, the heat they were both giving off, and his own tears mingled with the sweat on his skin.

He knew one final, heart-stopping moment of fear as her scream trailed off and she collapsed boneless in his arms, but then she was crying along with him, Simon was smiling, Inara was laughing, and there was a fresh wail of outrage overriding all of it.

“Is she okay?” Despite being exhausted, Natasha was suddenly hyper-focused on the baby’s cries. Clint helped her sit up far enough to see what Simon was doing.

To his relief, the doctor was smiling. “So you did know the sex? Well, she is perfect. Give me one second…” Simon did something Clint couldn’t quite parse, and then he was pushing to his feet, placing a blanket-wrapped bundle in Natasha’s arms.

A girl. A daughter. We have a daughter. Clint’s throat was tight with emotion as he watched their child settle into her mother’s embrace. The baby’s eyes were open, and she seemed to be as fascinated with them as he felt by her. “It’s like she knows us,” he said softly, starting to reach for her and stopping himself when he realized he was shaking.

“She can’t even see us clearly,” Tash said, every bit of her attention still on the baby. “Just light and shadows for the next handful of weeks.”

He didn’t have it in him to argue with her. “Did you know it was a girl?” he asked, the question taking some time to catch up with everything that was going on. “You never said.”

“I suspected,” she said, reaching out to trace the curve of the baby’s cheek with the tip of one finger. “Wasn’t sure until I heard her cry. That wasn’t a boy’s cry. That was a warrior’s cry.”

Clint laughed. He couldn’t help it – he’d been so worried about this moment for so long, and now that it was here and she was here and everything looked like it was actually going to work out it felt like he’d been dropped into the best part of a three day bender. “Gonna be an ass-kicker like her mother,” he agreed, kissing his wife on the cheek. Natasha leaned into him, humming softly.

“How are we doing in here?” The door slid open and Mal stepped into the sick bay.

Before Clint could say anything, Inara shouldered past Mal, making a face. “Fine until you decided this was any of your business,” she snarked.

“Last I checked, this was still my ship,” Mal retorted, drawing himself up even though Inara was pointedly not looking at him. After a moment, he shifted his attention to Clint and Natasha. “Everything all right?”

“Seems to be,” Clint began, glancing at Simon for reassurance. His heart skipped a beat as he heard Tash make a soft, uncertain noise.

“Yeah,” Simon said slowly, returning to her side, “she still needs to pass the placenta. Natasha,” he said, catching her eye, “I need you to hand the baby to your husband. You and I have a little more work to do.”

“I need to have a few words with Clint,” Mal said. “Settle the matter of their passage.”

Natasha was already passing the small, blanket wrapped bundle into Clint’s arms. “You probably don’t want to be around for this part anyway,” Simon said, glancing at him. “You can take the baby outside with you, but don’t go far in case something happens.”

“Come along,” Mal said. “The women-folk will love the chance to make a fuss.”

Clint looked back at Natasha, who was already looking decidedly uncomfortable. “You okay with this?”

She nodded. “This isn’t going to be pretty. Take care of our girl.”

Leaning down, Clint kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Always.”
****************************
He spotted the guns the moment he cleared the sick bay doors. “Let’s do this easy son,” Mal murmured as he brushed past Clint – lifting his sidearm along the way as the doors slid shut. “No call to raise a ruckus and upset your wife or that little stranger in your arms. Just hand the baby off to Zoe, come with us, and maybe we can all keep breathing.”

Zoe was behind him. Clint winced as her gun dug into his flesh between two of his lower ribs, thinking briefly of all the ways Tash was going to make him suffer for being so distracted. “Bottom of the stairs,” he said quietly, looking at Mal again. “If my wife sees what you’re doing, this won’t end well for any of us.”

After a beat, Mal nodded. He and Jayne stepped back, giving Clint and Zoe room to descend. Clint knew that if the circumstances had been even the slightest bit different he wouldn’t have hesitated to fight his way clear of the situation. They might have gleaned a hint as to his identity, but they wouldn’t be expecting the depth of his training. Few did, in his experience.

Of course he didn’t have the luxury of schooling them now, not with Natasha still needing medical care and his newborn daughter in his arms. “You won’t hurt her?” he asked, turning to pass the baby to Zoe.

“Nobody’s getting hurt, lessen you give me cause to make it happen,” Mal interjected, sounding surprisingly offended that Clint had felt the need to ask the question. “We just need to get a few things straight before we decide how we’re going to deal with this mess.”

Zoe’s touch on the baby was gentle, but confident. Heart breaking, Clint handed her over and turned to face the man who currently had all three of their fates tucked very neatly into the palm of his calloused hand. Mal stepped to the side, motioning with his gun, and Clint dutifully eased his way in front of the two men.

“Can I ask who raised the alarm?” He turned right as Mal gestured him into the galley. Another man was waiting for them there – someone who hooked into a deep memory of Clint’s and pulled hard. “Book,” he couldn’t stop himself saying. Fear washed over him, sinking deep into his soul.

Derriel Book nodded slowly. “So you do recognize me. I figured you might.”

He couldn’t fight, but Clint had never been too proud to beg when the stakes were high enough. Painfully aware that he would never be able to touch the kind of money that had to be in play for a Browncoat to do the bidding of somebody like Derriel Book, he nevertheless appealed directly to Mal. “You can’t let him take her. Please – I’ll give you everything we have. No questions asked. You can even turn me in – just let them go.”

A part of his brain noted nothing but confusion on the Captain’s face at his outburst, but his need to protect Tash and the baby was so strong that it overran any sense of caution that might have come into play because of the knowledge. “You don’t understand what’s at stake here. They’ll take our daughter. They’ll take her away from us, and the best Natasha can hope for is that they’ll let the Academy reprogram her – wipe her and start over.”

“Natasha Romanoff?” Book asked. Clint glanced at him, but kept the majority of his attention on Mal. “Then the stories were true?”

“Hellfire,” Jayne swore, throwing up his hands. “What stories?”

“What happens to you if you go back?” Mal asked. Clint saw the muzzle of his gun drop slightly, but didn’t kid himself that he stood a chance of getting all three of them clear of this. Not anymore.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“He’ll be executed,” Book said, “for the crime of seducing an Alliance Operative.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Clint repeated. “Without Tash or the baby I’m dead anyway.” He turned his full attention on Mal. “You helped us. You didn’t know us, but you helped us anyway – not to mention you’re clearly no fan of the Alliance. There’s got to be some good inside you won’t stand for this.”

Something else is going on here, he realized, looking around the room. He could feel it – just outside his awareness. Mal glanced over at Book, and the older man spread his hands. “I heard stories. Nothing that ever led me to think they were true, considering what the man involved would face if the Alliance caught him. And nothing about a baby.”

“Stories bring attention,” Clint said carefully. “Neither Tash nor me wants that.”

“What exactly do you want?” Mal asked. “Shepherd here thinks that you and your wife might be pulling a game, looking for two of our crew.”

“A game?” Clint blinked, feeling his world tilt as he shifted with this new piece of information. “First of all, I don’t know the first thing about you. Second of all, I promise you today has been anything but a game. Not with what’s facing us if we’re…” His brain finally caught up with what, precisely, Mal had said and who he meant. “Shepherd?”

He rounded on Book, wondering how many more shocks his brain could take before it shorted out entirely. The older man nodded. “I’m not Alliance anymore, son. Haven’t been for many, many years.”

Clint’s knees buckled with relief. Weapons disappeared as fast as they’d first appeared, and Mal himself helped Clint to a chair. “Are you telling us you didn’t recognize Simon Tam?” Book asked, taking a chair of his own opposite Clint.

“The doctor?” Clint asked. “I…” He wasn’t a tracker, not like Tash, but when he took the time to search his memory, it didn’t take long at all for him to make the connection. “No,” he told them all emphatically. “No – I swear, all I saw was someone willing to help my wife and child.” The Tams though – it was a sobering thing. Simon and River, brother and sister – valuable enough to the Alliance that they might be able to work a deal.

“Whatever you’re thinking son,” Mal said, his hand moving casually to the butt of his revolver again, “I’d let it go. The Doc and his sister are part of my crew, and there ain’t a one of us would let them go without a fight.”

Jayne actually coughed, forcing Mal to roll his eyes and amend, “Okay, so there’s one of us.”

“If the money’s right,” Jayne added, favoring Clint with a hopeful expression which he dutifully ignored.

Clint took a moment, weighed his options, and then shook his head. “I have a child now. I have Natasha. I can’t keep buying my way in the world with other people’s blood.” He looked at Mal. “I won’t bother the Tams – you have my word. All I want is to make a life for my family.”

There was a long moment of silence, during which Clint swore he could hear his own heart beating against his ribs. Finally Book said, “I believe him.”

“Course you do,” Jayne snapped. “It’s your job.”

Still Mal said nothing. “I owe you more than I can ever pay,” Clint said quietly, pouring everything he had left into an appeal to the man standing across from him. “You gave us shelter, helped us see our daughter into the world. What do you need from me to believe I have no hidden agenda here?”

Before Mal could say anything, Zoe appeared at the door. Her gun was in her hands and there was no sign of the baby. “Captain, River’s gone into the sick bay.” Her dark eyes ticked briefly to Clint before returning to the captain.

“She’s locked the door.”
**************************
Ridding her body of the placenta had been a nasty business, and Natasha was very glad in retrospect that Clint hadn’t been around for it. “I can give you something for the pain, but if you’re going to nurse it can’t be anything too strong.”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine,” she said, her tone thick and sleepy. Inara had cleaned her up and helped her into a dry gown while Simon was finishing up, and there was something about the woman’s touch that she found incredibly soothing.

Almost as if she’d read her thoughts, Inara moved up on Natasha’s other side. “I have a few physical techniques that could ease your discomfort.”

Natasha let her eyes drift closed, nodding sleepily. “Thank you,” she managed.

Inara threaded her fingers into Natasha’s hair and began to work a soothing rhythm into her skin. Exhaling softly, Tash leaned into the touch, letting the woman work her magic. Her garrison commander had bought her the services of a registered companion as a gift when she’d first received her designation as an Operative; it was a luxury she’d never expected to experience again.

After several moments, the sound of the sick bay doors sliding opening drew her attention. Natasha opened her eyes, expecting to see Clint. Instead there was a girl standing in the entrance. “River?” Simon asked cautiously, “Is something wrong?”

Natasha tensed, realizing immediately who had entered the room. River Tam – designated target of every Operative who’d sworn allegiance to the Alliance’s cause. Capturing her superseded every order, every mission. You would be enough coin to buy our way clear of this, she thought – instincts programmed into her from birth taking over for just a flash of a second.

And then there was suddenly a very large gun in the room, pointed directly at Natasha’s forehead. Natasha reacted almost as quickly as River had, sitting up and grabbing Inara by the wrist just as she was starting to pull away. She pulled the Companion in close. “Don’t move and you’ll be safe,” she said, not daring to take her eyes off the girl with the gun.

“You know how to dance,” River said, her expression furious.

It was a challenge – a formal one – and in her current condition Natasha wasn’t certain of her chances against somebody like River Tam. “River, what are you doing?” Simon asked, his fear mounting. “This woman isn’t our enemy.”

The overhead lights sparked off tears running down the girl’s cheeks. ”You know how to dance,” she repeated, her voice more strident now.

“She’s waiting for me to give the counter-sign,” Natasha said, pitching her voice to its most soothing tone. If River was going to play by the rules, there was a very slim chance they could all come out of this alive. “Doctor, I’m going to need you to leave.”

“You’re my patient,” he said, finally taking his attention off his sister. “I’m not leaving you to get shot.”

“Don’t you see how nervous you’re making her?” Natasha asked, cutting him off before his babbling could reach critical levels. “She’s trying to protect you, but she’s also trying to play by the rules and she’s not sure if I will.”

“You have no idea what she’s capable of.”

“Doctor,” Natasha said calmly, mustering all the patience she had left inside her, “believe me when I say that if I cared about getting the upper hand on your sister you are well within my range to make a perfect hostage. Her finger on that trigger, my hands on your neck – she’s already done the math, and even with me wounded she knows victory is not a sure thing.”

“Let Inara go, then. If me being here is keeping her from shooting you…”

Natasha swallowed down the urge to tighten her grip on the Companion. “If you go down, my baby goes down with you. You can see where it’s in my best interest that things don’t spin that way.”
*******************************
Clint had bolted the instant he heard River Tam was locked in with his wife. He’d been fast enough to take everybody in the room by surprise – making it almost to the base of the stairs leading to sick bay before they brought him down. It took four of them to subdue him in the end, and normally he would have been proud of the number of guns currently aimed in his direction. River Tam was not a name to be messed with though and the idea of Natasha alone and vulnerable with her was making him crazy.

His only consolation was that his daughter seemed to be fine for the moment. Simon had been forced out of the sick-bay – Clint had to assume the information Zoe had brought to Mal had come from him – and he had taken custody of the baby. It wasn’t a perfect situation by any means. Clint had spent enough time with the doctor to assume that Simon’s instincts would keep him from threatening the baby out of hand.

If Natasha gets the upper hand on his sister… Something of his thoughts must have shown in his expression. “No stupid moves,” Jayne growled, the barrel of his pistol digging hard into the side of Clint’s skull as Mal and Zoe went to talk to Simon.

Clint exhaled sharply, willing himself calm. He needed information more than he needed to be a hero right now, but Zoe, Mal and Simon were speaking in lower tones than he could easily hear. “Where is my wife?” he called out finally, trying to get their attention. “What’s going on?”

The three of them shifted position and he could see that whatever Simon had said, Mal wasn’t happy. “Seems I should have asked you what your wife’s intentions might be towards my crew. Whatever she was thinking it appears River didn’t take too kindly to it.”

“I swear to you,” Clint said as they came closer to him, “Natasha would have been as surprised as I was to run into the Tams. We haven’t lied to you.”

“It’s possible River reacted to a stray thought,” Zoe said, glancing at Mal. “One of those things you think in the moment but have no intention of following through on?”

“She kept saying ‘you know how to dance’,” Simon offered, looking to Clint for clarification. “It was like she was waiting for Natasha to say something in return.”

All eyes were on him again – Clint shrugged as best he could with his wrists bound behind him. “Operatives have a lot of rituals outsiders aren’t party to. It sounds like she was waiting for Tash to give a counter-sign, but I couldn’t tell you what it was or what it meant.” The blanket-wrapped bundle in Simon’s arms made a soft sound, and Clint felt his heart shatter. “Let me see my child,” he begged. “Please.”

Clint was relieved to see that Mal did appear to be wavering. “I’d like to think you’ve been truthful with us,” he said at last, “but this situation is too fractious for me to be entirely comfortable with either of you right now.”

“That is my child,” Clint pleaded. “I swear to you by whatever you hold most dear that I haven’t lied to you. We do not have designs on the Tams.”

“I think you believe that,” Mal said, “but I’ve got a member of my crew that clearly thinks otherwise, and a woman who’s very special to me caught up in this madness. If anything happens to Inara because of you or your wife, I can promise you will not like what follows.”

Before Clint could think of anything to say that stood a chance of making things better, the young mechanic pointed past them to the head of the main stairs. “River!”

The girl Clint knew best from waves broadcast throughout the Core, sat down heavily on the top step. “She won’t dance,” she said dully. Clint couldn’t read anything from her tone, but instinct told him this meant Natasha was alive. “Serena comes first. Serena will always come first.”

Mal went to the foot of the stairs. “Come on down here, you,” he said – but the tone of his voice wasn’t unkind. “You’re stirring up all kinds of grief again with that brain chatter of yours.”

The girl actually pouted at him, but a moment later got to her feet and began heading down to join him. Clint felt someone crouch at his back. “When he gets her away from the stairs, head up to see your wife,” Zoe murmured, tugging at his bonds until they began to loosen.

Clint shook his head. “I want my daughter. Now.” He was trembling now with the effort of not slipping free and turning around to unleash on her. The whole mess had been nothing but miscommunication and rash action from the start – he wasn’t going to help things by continuing the trend.

He saw Simon react, as if Zoe had signaled him. He hurried over to Clint, looking apologetic. “I’m so sorry everything turned out like this,” he began.

“Just tell me she’s okay,” Clint said, feeling his bonds fall away at last. Easing his arms around, he reached up and Simon immediately put the baby in his arms.

“She’s perfect,” Simon said confidently, letting go and stepping back.

The baby had fallen so deeply asleep there was a tiny furrow in her brow as though she was concentrating on a particularly weighty problem. Sighing with relief, Clint gently rubbed the skin smooth with the edge of his thumb. “An ass-kicker just like your mama,” he whispered, his vision blurring with tears.

She shifted in his arms then, her tiny fist brushing against his thumb before opening reflexively to grab at it. It was enough; clutching her to his chest, Clint began to shake with barely suppressed sobs.
**********************************
“You overdid it,” Inara said, helping Natasha to her feet.

Tash knew she was leaning more heavily on the other woman than she normally would have, but it had been a long damn day. “It worked, didn’t it?” she managed, groping for the edge of the bed.

“It did at that,” Inara agreed. “Pretty spectacularly too, considering she could have shot you at any moment.”

As she slid herself up on the bed, Natasha noticed the ring of bruised flesh circling Inara’s wrist. “I am sorry about that,” she said gently. “Thank you for not fighting me. I was trying not to hurt you, but my control isn’t what it should be right now.”

“Maybe not for an Operative,” Inara began, “but I could tell you were trying to diffuse the situation. I have herbs that will speed the healing process and no clients scheduled for several weeks.” She paused. “You’ve known the company of a Companion before.”

It wasn’t a question. Smiling slightly, Natasha nodded. “Kitiara Andelon honored me with her company many years ago. Her companionship was a gift from my garrison commander on receiving my official designation as an Operative.” Awareness of everything she’d left behind for love of Clint and the child they shared – a child Natasha suddenly realized she missed with every fiber of her being – swelled in her chest, making it hard to breathe for a moment.

“You know, your story is already being whispered in the Training Houses,” Inara said. “It fires the imagination – two people in love giving up everything to be together.”

Almost as if on cue, the doors slid open, revealing Clint with the baby in his arms. A small sob escaped Natasha’s lips at the sight. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Hey there mama,” he said softly. “Can we come in?”

It was so ridiculously incongruous and so perfectly Clint that she couldn’t help laughing through her tears. “Get in here both of you,” she said, stretching out her arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his expression going serious for a moment as he passed the baby to her.

Nodding, Natasha leaned into him. “It’s been a hell of a day.” Gazing down at her sleeping daughter, she felt the world go soft again. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

She felt Clint press a kiss to her hair. “She’s amazing, and so are you.” He was silent for a moment before asking, “Did you have any ideas on her name? The Tam girl was calling her Serena when she came downstairs.”

A shiver raced through Natasha. “The ship is called Serenity.” She hadn’t even realized at first that she’d caught the designation as they were carrying her to sick bay. “I thought it fit.”

“You know it was probably named for the Battle of Serenity Valley, right?” Clint asked, coming around to perch on the edge of her bed. “You saw that duster the captain’s sporting.”

“That a problem?”

The two of them looked up together to see that Mal had entered the sick bay while they were talking. “Malcolm Reynolds, ma’am,” he said, nodding at Natasha. “We were never properly introduced.”

“Natasha Romanoff, Captain,” she said, smiling at him. “And in answer to your question, your political leanings won’t be a problem for us if my past won’t be a problem for you.”

“Either of our pasts,” Clint added. He was arguably less of a threat than she was, but Mal’s crew had already proven the insane lengths to which they were prepared to go to watch out for each other. Natasha suspected Clint’s stories were going to be very interesting when they had a chance to be alone together.

“We’ve all got a past,” Mal said dismissively. “Even Inara over there. All I care about is that you’ve got skills me and mine could find useful.”

Inara cleared her throat meaningfully. Mal ducked his head for a moment, then added, “And of course you need a place to call home for a spell.”

“Not to mention having people like us where you can keep an eye on us is definitely in your best interest,” Clint said, smirking.

“There is a great deal of mutually beneficial at stake,” Mal agreed. “Can we close the deal?”

Clint looked back at her, and Natasha nodded. Her instincts had trusted Captain Reynolds from the beginning, and despite the insanity that had followed she still believed he was a good man. The idea that she and Clint could make a place for themselves and their daughter here for at least a little while was too attractive to ignore.

“Consider it closed,” she said finally, reaching up to cover Clint’s hand with her own.

Mal smiled. “Well done. Now if the three of you are up for company, I think the womenfolk would like a chance to fuss over the little one there.”

Inara snorted, causing Mal to roll his eyes again. “Okay – the menfolk too.” He grinned, and Natasha saw hints of the man he must have been before the war shaped him. “Been a while since any of us have even seen a body that tiny, and based on how she handled this recent madness I suspect she’s going to be something special.”

The daughter of two renegade Alliance folk spending her first months around Browncoat scofflaws, Natasha thought as the room began to fill up with people. She only hoped Malcom Reynolds hadn’t just uttered the understatement of a lifetime.