River’s tap on the shuttle door was unexpected, as was her request. “I would like to participate in a tea party,” she stated matter-of-factly, standing straight and poised at the doorway. “Ladies of proper upbringing are required to attend afternoon teas as part of the socializing process of maturity.” Her hair, normally a tangled mess, had been tamed slightly with water, and she wore a deep pink filmy dress that hung to her knees. It was one she wore when she went to dance in the cargo bay, as the overlay twirled about her like wings. But she didn’t look like she was ready to dance; the expression on her face was a study in seriousness, one that didn’t quite fit.
Inara beckoned her in, slightly bemused expression kept in check. “What prompted this, River?” She motioned to a cushion on the floor near the bed, where she had been in the process of meditating. River padded over on bare feet, and half-fell, half-curtseyed onto it.
River’s serious expression broke, and she stared at Inara with a doleful look, all doe eyes gone round. “I just turned seventeen!”
Biting her lower lip, Inara bent down to the teenager and smoothed a hand across the top of her head, unruly hair refusing to be smoothed. “Mei mei, your brother didn’t tell us it was your birthday.”
River stuck out her tongue. “Simple Simon had no penny, so could not get any pie,” she grumbled. “Doesn’t mean no one else can have any. Fishing for whales, fishing for compliments, fishing for an excuse. He has no dates on his calendar.” She had come a long way since the incident on Miranda, but she still enjoyed speaking in riddles sometimes, especially when she was frustrated.
Inara paused. “He forgot.”
River nodded and dropped her head to her knees. “Too busy with the engine room and Kaylee to remember his sibling,” came the reply, muffled by her curtain of hair.
“Well then, you need a proper birthday tea,” and with that, Inara set about finding what she could to make some semblance of a tea setting. She did not keep much in her shuttle in the way of food, just some packaged biscuits to be served for clients. They would have to do. She had just finished boiling the kettle in the kitchen, so the water was still hot. She returned the green tea to its spot next to the teapot, and pulled down a box that held the more exotic teas. Regular green tea will just not do for a birthday.
As she set the pot to brew, she returned to River, pulling a cushion off the bed in the process. “We’ll have ourselves a tea picnic,” she said, bringing the biscuits and two teacups over, and sat on the other cushion with her legs tucked under her. She studied the girl in front of her, busying herself with twisting a lock of hair into a tight coil.
River pursed her lips and squinted at the coil of hair. “Am I supposed to feel different?” she asked. “I don’t feel different. It’s an arbitrary moment in time, and I hadn’t put much thought into it, before – ” The word “Miranda” hung unspoken in the air. “And there was always too much noise in my head to pin down whether I felt anything that was merely me…” She dropped her hands to her lap, the coil of hair unraveling slowly.
Inara reached out and clasped those hands in hers, and gave a gentle squeeze. “This tea will be just for you.” River’s lips twitched into a half-smile, tinged with sadness. “I never really feel different on my birthdays, either,” she continued, “except for maybe my twenty-fifth. But that was due to the excessive amount of moonshine than from anything else.” At that, River’s smile turned up a notch. Inara took a moment to retrieve the teapot, and something from the tiny icebox, and gingerly set it down between them.
River lifted the lid and sniffed. “What is this? It smells familiar.”
“It’s Darjeeling,” Inara replied, taking the lid and the pot to pour a measure into each of the teacups. “I figured it would be nice for you to have something you might have enjoyed back on Osiris. Sometimes we’d have it with milk or cream, or sometimes lemon, but out here in the black, those are luxuries.” At the crestfallen look River gave, Inara brought out the retrieved item, thawing quickly. A small ice cube tray was filled with tiny white cubes. “Luckily for us, this shuttle has a few of its own luxuries. I freeze the cream so it doesn’t curdle.”
River’s lips twitched upward, and her back straightened so she sat primly on her cushion. “May I have a lump of cream, please?” she said in her most cultured Osiris accent. Inara dropped a cube of cream into the steaming teacup, and River giggled as the cream melted outward, swirls of white mixing with the deep amber liquid. “The temperature will be adversely affected,” she said with a hint of worry to her voice, rising at the end as though she were about to panic.
“I do this all the time, River,” Inara reassured her. “It will be just cool enough to drink. It’s only one small cube.”
Nodding, River took her cup and inhaled the light scent. “Forget-me-not bouquets on the table,” she mumbled into her cup. “And the tea set that Mother would only bring out for company. She took tea in the garden when it was nice out; she loved to watch her flowers.” River looked up from her cup, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You must be a kind of reader, too.”
Inara put her hand on River’s knee. “No, mei mei, just a Companion who’s traveled a lot. I really just guessed. I had – no idea…” Her voice caught on the last word. She really had no idea that the tea would bring back such strong memories for the girl. Inara gathered her composure and remembered her training, or she’d be overcome with emotion. She smiled. “Happy birthday, River.”
They sipped their tea and nibbled the dry biscuits. More accurately, River took a bite of one and nearly choked on it, due to its dry nature. Inara swiftly patted her on the back, and ensured she took tiny sips of the tea. When she had breath again, River talked at length about the tiny cakes her mother used to serve when guests would come over late in the afternoon, and how Simon would always take two of them off the tray before he brought them out to the garden. He’d share them with River, though begrudgingly, and he always made a big deal about how it was such a chore to take them without Mother noticing.
“I was aware that Mother knew that Simon pilfered the icing-covered confections, but I indulged him nonetheless, since it seemed to mean so much to him.” River gave a mischievous smile over the rim of her cup. “More to the point, it was amusing to watch him sneak about, when he was abysmally bad at doing so.”
Inara giggled at the thought of a young Simon skulking about the kitchen of an unseen estate.
A quick knock sounded at the shuttle door. Inara unfolded herself to answer, and found a frantic-looking Simon standing there, peering around her at his sister. “Thank god you’re here. I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Was she any trouble?” he said, finally addressing Inara, who raised an eyebrow at him.
“She’s fine. She has been for quite some time,” she stated slowly, so that he could understand what she was really talking about.
“Simon, you’re an obtuse boob. No need to worry. I won’t get eaten by wild space monkeys in here.” River glared at him over her teacup. “Not that you hadn’t noticed before…”
He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had each time he was caught acting like an idiot. “Sorry, mei mei, I guess it’s habit.” Simon took a sniff of the air. “Is that… Darjeeling?” he asked, a faint smile on his face. “It was Mother’s favourite.” River grinned, the first truly happy smile she’d had since entering the shuttle. Inara shooed Simon in with quick fluttering hand movements, and he approached River’s spot on the floor. “Mind if I join you, Birthday Girl?”
“You didn’t forget,” River whispered.
“How could I? It’s been a whole seventeen years of you being annoying,” he chided, and she stuck out her tongue at him. He glanced at Inara then: “Would it be alright if I – ”
She rolled her eyes and indicated her vacated cushion. “I’ll get another cup.” He knelt down with a badly-concealed “oomph!” while Inara pulled a third teacup from the shelf, and another cushion from the bed. For all that the doctor was brilliant, River hit it right on the head when she called him obtuse.
As Inara sat in seiza-style, smoothing the silk fabric of her dress over her thighs, she saw Simon pull out a small box from his pocket and hand it to River.
“I got them on our last trip worldside, when I asked Kaylee to take you shopping with her,” he explained. “I hope you like them.”
River’s eyes widened even more when she opened the box, revealing two small ironwork barrettes, metal butterflies adorning the ends. “You gave me wings,” she murmured, eyes glistening.
“They’re as graceful as you are, River,” Inara said, looking at Simon instead; he beamed. “Would you like me to help you put them in?”
River nodded, pulling her hair back, frowning a bit at the ragged ends. “It seems that my hair is in need of help. It is unruly.”
“I’ll get the brushes,” Inara assured her, standing to move to her side table.
Inara fixed River’s hair, and the Tams traded stories of their past birthdays, bittersweet memories made softer with time and the tea they shared. Inara mused on the family that was created on Serenity; all the members of the crew were there for different reasons, but they were all still here for each other.
