Disclaimer: The only thing I own are the characters and places I've made up. All hail the mighty and powerful Joss Whedon. Also, I know I've included the theme song. I didn't write it, but I love it to death, please please please don't sue me.
Author's note: This takes place between Objects in Space and Serenity: the movie and the entries are meant to flow as episodes. Said episodes will usually be chopped up into different parts so that it's easier to read (instead of one big long chunk.) I'll be posting the episodes one at a time in the same document so you don't have to go searching all over for the next one.
Also, I used a few different websites for most of my research about the ship's layout, planets, currency and what have you. My apologies if it isn't 100 percent accurate, you know how it goes. As for the Mandarin, you can look it up on your own because, like the show, most of the Chinese dialogue doesn't necessarily need to be translated. Reviews are welcomed and desired.
-Carrie
It wasn't what you'd call a nice place, this pub. None so bad as they'd been in before, but it weren't nothin' to brag about. If there was one thing to be said, there were enough gorram lowlifes in the place to make your average man a mite anxious, that's for damn sure.
Despite the less than pleasant company, the crew of Serenity was just glad to be paid and glad to have some real food in their bellies.
"That's how I like a job to go; nice and smooth-like," Mal said as he relaxed into his chair. "No fightin', nobody gettin hurt."
"Nah, that's half the fun," said Jayne with a toothy grin.
"I seem to remember a certain member of my crew whinin' and carryin' on about a bullet hole in the thigh not too long ago," Mal said sternly. "Weren't very fun then, was it?"
"I don't whine," Jayne growled under his breath. Zoë glanced over at him and raised a very skeptical eyebrow. "I don't!"
"You complain more'n anyone else on that boat, and you know it," Zoë said.
"Well, you get shot in the gorram leg an' tell me how you fair against it!" Jayne said defensively.
"I've been shot plenty. It ain't a rosy affair, but it ain't nothin' to be cryin' over," she said.
"Hey!" barked the captain. "Let's try and enjoy this, dong ma? How often do we get a job goes as easily as this one?"
"The cap'n's right. Let's not argue anymore," said Kaylee with a sweet smile. To further quiet down the squabbling bunch, the waitress had returned.
"There anythin' else I can get for ya tonight?" she asked politely. She had a very pretty Asian-looking face with black hair done up into a bun, held fast with decorative chopsticks. She was thin and tall, prolly somewhere in the neighborhood of 5'9".
"Nah, I think we're about ready for the bill," said Mal with a gracious nod.
"Alright, I've got to wait on a few more tables, but I'll have that bill to ya in no time at all," she said with a little smile.
"Xièxie," Mal said. Jayne gave a short little whistle after the waitress was outta earshot.
"Jing cai," he said, inspecting the waitress's hind quarters. "Ya don't see that sittin' on a boat fer weeks on end…"
"I beg to differ," Wash said, looking fondly at his wife. Zoë gave him an affectionate smile.
"You know what I mean," Jayne growled, glaring at Wash. As soon as he went back to admiring the waitress, he noticed something a little off color. "Hey, Mal," he said, not taking his eyes off the scene unfolding in front of him. Mal directed his attention to the table the waitress was currently at. Every single one of the greasy qing wa cao de liu mangs was drunk off their asses and lookin' to try something stupid. One of them was leaning in close to the waitress, and he weren't starin' intently at her face. In a flash, he took hold of her arm and pulled her down into his lap. She struggled against him and cried out, but he held her there.
Without even giving it a thought, Jayne was on his feet, thundering towards the ensuing chaos. He ripped the girl out of the man's grasp and grabbed the greasy low-life by his stubbly throat and cracked him 'cross the jaw. He fell back in his chair.
"You oughta consider growin' a few manners," Jayne told him. "I don't take kindly to men that torment pretty girls. 'Fact, 'kindly' don't really describe me at all." He looked briefly over at the girl he just saved from God knows what. She was just standing there, tremblin' something fierce, eyes wide and mouth open. "You may wanna get outta here, this's gonna get ugly," he warned her. And he was right. All of the scum's friends were on their feet. With guns.
"Thank you," breathed the girl before running away.
"And this was goin' so smooth…," Mal groaned as he and the rest of his crew readied themselves for yet another bar fight.
That was the last damn straw. She was so sick of that gorram piss-poor bar that she couldn't see straight. Sure, the money was decent, but there's only so much a body can take before they're forced onward to better things.
"I quit," Bridget barked at her current boss.
"Oh, come on, now, Bridge, it ain't like anything came of it," said Fuller.
"It don't matter. I'm gone, that's all there is to it. Thank you fer lettin' me work here, but I'm movin' on," Bridget told him as she threw her large bag full of her personal effects over her shoulder. She untied her apron and tossed it aside.
"How're you gonna pick up yer check next week?" he asked.
"Keep it, I don't care," Bridget growled as she strode past him. "You don't pay me enough anyway." She tip toed through the debris left by the brawl that'd ended only twenty minutes ago. On the way out she gave an over-turned table a good kick.
Once outside, Bridget took a deep breath of dry, dusty air. She was finally free of brawls, gunfights and men with bad intentions. She turned her gaze upward and could see the first few stars emerging in the failing light. No matter where she was or what mess she'd gotten herself into, at least she had the sky, and with it, the promise of a fresh start. She heaved the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder and set off to find some way of getting off that shit-hole of a moon.
Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot
stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You
can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't comin' back
Burn the land and
boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...
Episode 15
Moving OnThe fight Jayne had started up in the pub had sorely dampened Mal's spirits. He was hoping for a clean job and a clean get-away. Unfortunately, things had a knack of goin' at least a little wrong for him, not matter what the circumstance.
"Aw, lighten up, Cap," Jayne said as they walked and/or limped back to the crappy motel they were staying at. "It ain't like anyone really got hurt…"
"Speak for yourself," Simon said indignantly, glaring at Jayne through a puffy black eye.
"You call that hurt?" Jayne scoffed. He and the good doctor had never really gotten along and Jayne couldn't resist the opportunity to mildly humiliate him.
"Personally, I call a twisted ankle hurt," Wash grumbled as he gimped along with the help of his wife.
"You fell over a chair, Wash," Simon reminded him. "I got punched in the eye."
"Look, no more bar fights if we can help it, alright?" Mal said in an irritated voice. "We'd be in a heap of trouble if we got ourselves arrested."
"But we wasn't arrested," Jayne said.
"Yeah, this time," Mal said. "I don't much feel like stayin' here much longer. We'll stock up Serenity, get a couple a new fuel cells and head for the black as soon as possible."
The problem of getting off solid ground, Bridget soon found out, was that she had no idea where she wanted to go, which made it hard to figure out which ship in the landing yard she wanted to hitch a ride on. It really didn't matter too much, she just didn't want to end up on an alliance ship. She crept around the looming shadows, trying to discern their make and model in the dark. If there was one thing Bridget hadn't the foggiest about, it was space ships. On a good day, she couldn't tell a transport vessel from a war ship. There was only one ship in the yard that she could classify by just looking at it: a Firefly.
"Alright, let's get shopping. We ain't stoppin' for a while yet, so if you need any clothes, toiletries or any other personal effects, I'd pick them up now," Mal advised, squinting against the harsh sunlight the next day. "Kaylee, I want you to purchase us some fuel and have her prepped and ready to go by this afternoon."
"Can do, sir," she said with a nod.
"Zoë and Wash, you two can get us some proper food to stock our pantries with. I don't want to have anything made'a protein powder for at least another week, shiny?"
"I can't wait for real food…C'mon, hun," Wash said, taking Zoë by the hand and dragging her away towards the market.
"The rest of you, get what you need. We're getting off this rock by thirteen hundred, so be on time," said Mal.
"Well it ain't like you'd leave without us," Jayne said.
"Well it ain't like I wanna stay here any longer than I got to, thanks to your gorram shenanigans in that bar," Mal shot back. "Be on time, Jayne." Jayne grumbled something and went on his merry. Simon and River went together, Shepherd Book set off to visit a few friends at the local monastery and Inara had previous engagements on Adrastea, the planet to which the moon they were on belonged. Mal sent her a message telling her the time and place of the rendezvous between Serenity and her shuttle. If all went according to plan, they'd be outta there within three hours.
Despite the dusty, lonesome nature of Ida (which was what this particular moon was called), the market place was another story entirely. The whole place was loud and mostly friendly with people bustlin' to and fro, exchanging all different kinds of currency for various items.
"Look, Simon," River said as she gravitated towards a booth with colorful articles of clothing. "I like the blue one," she said pulling a flowing dress of brilliant blue from one of the racks. She put the hanger up over her head so that the dress hung on her as if she were wearing it. The hem of the dress reached mid calf and it looked as though it would fit.
"It's beautiful, Mei Mei," her brother agreed, only able to see out his left eye, as his right was completely swolled shut from the night before. "Let's buy it."
"Can we?" she asked with a smile.
"Consider it an early birthday present," he said as she handed him the dress. He took the garment and paid for it. The vendor folded it carefully and wrapped it in pink tissue paper. She put the dress into what looked like a box she'd made herself with thin cardboard.
"Xièxie," Simon said as he and River left with their purchase.
"Wash, baby…there's not a one of us knows how to cook a turkey," Zoë said skeptically as her husband clutched the frozen bird.
"We can figure it out," he protested. She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on, Zoe, be optimistic! I'm sure we've got a cook book someplace…" Zoë shook her head and turned to continue shopping. "Well, I want turkey! I'm gonna buy it, and I'm gonna cook it!" Wash called after her stubbornly.
"Whatever you say," Zoë sighed as she examined a loaf of bread.
"It'll be the best damn turkey you've ever tasted, too," Wash said with a grin and a nod.
"I'm sure it will be," she said with a shadow of a smile. She put three loaves of bread into their basket, along with Wash's turkey. "When was the last time we had real food on that ship?"
"Probably somewhere in the neighborhood of 'I can't remember'," Wash said as he prodded some fresh apples.
"Don't poke them, you'll bruise 'em all up," said Zoë. She picked up an apple. "You just squeeze them a little bit. Make sure they're nice and firm." This remark sent unmentionable thoughts into Wash's head.
"You're very…skillful in judging produce," he said with a grin.
"I only eat the best fruit," she told him with a coy little smile.
"I see," said Wash. The two of them exchanged a quick kiss before carrying on with their shopping.
It had been hours and hours and one hell of a cold night's sleep. Bridget sat there, leaned against one of the Firefly's front landing legs, feeling groggy and cold, not to mention she had a raging headache. She hoped that the Firefly's crew returned sometime soon. One more night outside sounded none too appealing to her.
Another hour slipped past. The suns were beginning to set and Bridget was starting to get frustrated. If these people weren't back soon, she would get up and go try and hitchhike on someone else's boat. After all, who knows how long they were planning on staying? She gazed out into the sky. The massive form of Adrastea was getting clearer as the suns went down. Why couldn't she have ended up on the main planet instead of one of it's lousy, desert moons? Adrastea looked so clean and fresh with it's brilliant blue oceans and lush, green landforms. She'd heard talk of how pretty it was down there, how everyone was rich and there wasn't a desert to be found on the whole damn thing.
Her musings were suddenly interrupted by the sound of friendly chatter. She removed her gaze from the planet and looked over to where the noise was coming from. A large group of people, she counted eight in all, were making a beeline for the ship. Perhaps this was its crew. Just to be sure, she hesitated where she was until they got closer.
"Can I help you?" asked the man in front.
"Uh, well, maybe," she said, hoisting herself to her feet and knocking the dust off her pants and jacket. She threw her bag over one shoulder. As the man got closer, he seemed very familiar. In fact, the whole group of people seemed familiar, save one or two of them. "I was wonderin' if you were takin' on passengers."
"Weren't exactly planning on it," he said. "Where're you going?"
"Anywhere that ain't here," she said.
"Hold on a sec, Cap," said the big guy in the back. "That's the waitress, the one we saved from them guys was tryin' to fondle her up." That's where I've seen them, thought Bridget. The captain stared at her for half a second.
"I thought you looked familiar," he said. "Can't blame you for wanting to get outta this place."
"Yeah, I quit and now I gotta find someone that can give me a ride off this rock," she said. "I wouldn't make no trouble for you or your crew and I'll stay out of your way. I'm even prepared to earn my keep."
"Why? Dontcha have any coin on you to pay your way?" he asked.
"All I got to my name is two platinum. If I give 'em over, I won't have nothin' when I get to where I'm going," Bridget said, hoping this little setback wouldn't cost her a ride. The Captain looked as if he were thinking the situation over.
"Alright, in that case, what can you do that's relevant to boat life?" he asked.
"I can cook," she said. "I'm a real good cook."
"Well, miss, you're in luck. Our gou shi for brains pilot just bought us an expensive turkey don't none of us know how to prepare," he said. "And as long as you aim to behave and don't cause me no strife, I'll let you tag along."
"Thank you, sir," said Bridget.
"And before I let you aboard, I gotta warn you, our business ain't the most legal of trades. If you rat us out or do anything to hinder me in any way, I'll throw you off this boat. Shiny?"
"Yes sir," she said. "I won't cause you no trouble, I swear it."
"Good. See to it you don't," he said. "My name's Malcolm Reynolds, mostly I go by Mal. I'm the captain of this here Firefly. Her name's Serenity, and you're not to make no jokes or comments about her condition."
"I wasn't gonna, sir," said Bridget, wondering if she really wanted to be on a ship for god knows how long with this Malcolm Reynolds guy.
"This is my first mate, Zoë, her husband Wash, who's the pilot. Kaylee's my mechanic and Shepherd Book's our preacher. And Jayne…well, Jayne just likes to shoot stuff."
"Damn right I do," said Jayne, patting the pistol at his side.
"This is Simon, our doctor and his sister, River," he said. "We got one more of our crew to pick up near Adrastea, so we've got to get a move on."
"Do you need help loading things up?" she asked.
"Not for now, but I'll remember to ask you when we do," said Mal. Mal opened up the door in the center of the outer lock door by way of a code he punched into a key pad outside. The nine of them climbed into the airlock chamber. With a push of a button, Mal opened the innerlock doors of the airlock. They stepped into the cargo bay and Bridget looked around the spacious interior. It was dim, dingy and industrial looking but held far more promise than anything on Ida could offer her.
"Shepherd, would you mind getting a place ready for her to sleep in the passenger quarters?" asked Mal.
"I'd be glad to," responded the preacher, walking off into another area of the ship to do so.
"Sorry, I forgot to ask your name," said Mal.
"It's Bridget. Bridget Li," she said. Mal gave her a funny look.
"That your real name?" he asked. She gave him a confused stare.
"'Course it is…why?" she asked.
"Oh, there was this woman I knew a while back, went by Bridget occasionally…she was a little kuang zhe de. I'd actually rather not talk about it," he said.
"I see…," said Bridget still a little confused.
"Well, there's work to be done, crew members to pick up, and turkey to cook," said Mal. "Kaylee, could you give Bridget a quick tour so she knows her way around?"
"Sure thing," said Kaylee brightly. "C'mon," she said to Bridget. She followed Kaylee up two flights of stairs. "That way's the bridge and our quarters," said Kaylee pointing to the right. "And over here's the kitchen," she said taking a left. Bridget found herself standing in the middle of a very homey looking dining area. The whole kitchen was painted in a warm yellow with red flowers.
"I painted them flowers myself," said Kaylee proudly. She lead Bridget down another corridor. "These stairs go down to the common room and then down by the infirmary and the passenger bunks," she said, pointing to the stairwell to the left. "And this here," she said stepping through an opening at the end of the corridor, "is my favorite place, the engine room. I spend most my time in here makin' sure everything's runnin' proper." Bridget nodded as she looked around at the dingy interior made more pleasant by the presence of a brightly colored hammock in the corner closest to the door. "Maybe I should show ya where you'll be sleepin'," she said with a smile. They took the stairwell that Kaylee pointed out only seconds earlier. When they reached the bottom, they stopped off at a room full of chairs and sofas. A coffee table was in the middle of the room. "This here's the common room where we do a lot of socializin' if we ain't hangin' about in the kitchen."
"Looks comfy," said Bridget.
"It is that, all right," said Kaylee with a smile and a nod. Then she pointed to a brightly lit room with windows on all sides. "That's the med bay, where Simon works if one of us is hurt."
"Does that happen often?" asked Bridget.
"Well, not too often, but it has a tendency of occurin'," Kaylee said. That last remark worried Bridget a little. After all, the captain had mentioned how their occupation wasn't the most legal. "Then down that way is the Cargo bay, but you seen that already," she said pointing to the left. "And this where you'll be stayin'," she said as she took a right past the infirmary. The rooms looked very Asian influenced with their rice paper sliding doors. "This one's Simons, that's River's, and here's Book's."
"Already given her the tour, Kaylee?" asked the deep voice of Shepherd Book as he peaked out of the room next to Simon's.
"Sure have," she answered.
"I've almost got the bed made up for you," he told Bridget. "You can set your things down in here."
"Well, it ain't much," said Bridget dropping her bag to the floor. "But it's all I got."
"Professional transient?" he asked with a smile.
"Something like that," she said. She looked around the room and was impressed. "I've not slept in a room as nice or clean in a long time."
"No?" asked Book. Bridget shook her head.
"One thing 'bout moving around all the time, you're more'n a little poor and you're thankful when you get to sleep in a bed at all," she said.
"What a life," Book said.
"Yeah…Well, preacher, I got a turkey to cook for my first chore as a passenger. Turkey's take the better part of an evening in an oven."
"I'm looking forward to dinner," he said. Bridget turned to leave and gasped in surprise. The girl, River was standing directly in the doorway, staring right into Bridget's eyes.
"Listen…," she whispered. Bridget listened for a moment but didn't hear anything. "The storm's let up," she said simply.
"Er…," Bridget stammered, confused. "Sorry?"
"River, why don't you let Bridget get up to the kitchen so she can fix us a real dinner?" Book suggested. River slowly stood aside. Bridget walked past her, trying not to let her face give away how uncomfortable she really was.
"You don't have to be afraid anymore!" River called after her. Bridget quickened her pace past the infirmary and up the stairs to the kitchen. What was with that girl? The way she stared at Bridget…like she could see into her very soul…it was unnerving.
"Oh, good, the cook's here," said Wash, the pilot. "Here's the bird," he said, taking it out of the paper bag and setting it on the counter. "It's been thawing out for the last few hours, but I dunno if that's long enough."
"Bird this big, I'd say no. But we'll work with what we got," Bridget told him. "Got a pan I can put this in?"
"That cabinet right next to you has all sorts of pots and pans in it," said Wash. "I also got a bag of potatoes and some carrots and onions…thought I might stuff it, but I wasn't sure how exactly I was gonna do it," he said with an almost confused face.
"Don't worry about it," she said with a reassuring smile. "Dinner'll be ready at six-ish."
"Six-ish. Got it," said Wash. "Well, I better go do that flying thing I do."
"Guess you should," she said. Wash gave her a grin and left her in the kitchen with bags and bags of groceries. She watched him head straight down the hall and up a little flight of stairs to the cockpit. Interesting guy, she thought to herself as she went through the bags of food. She put what needed to be in the refrigerator in the refrigerator and found where most of the pantry-related items went. Once everything was put in its proper place, she got ready to do what she was best at: cooking a damn good meal.
"How was business this morning?" Mal asked Inara as soon as she descended the stairs from the starboard shuttle.
"Just fine," she said. "And how was shopping?"
"Went off without a hitch," he said with a short little smile. "We got a new passenger aboard."
"Do we?" she asked.
"Sure do. Name's Bridget. She cooks, apearently," he said.
"Apearently?" she asked, arching a perfectly penciled eyebrow.
"She's cooking us a turkey dinner," he said.
"Ah," said Inara with a little nod. "Hopefully we won't all drop dead after dinner."
"I highly doubt she means us any harm," said Mal sternly.
"Well, Mal, can't say that you've ever been a spectacular judge of character," Inara said, walking past him.
"Why don't you go into the kitchen and check for yourself, then?" Mal shot back, his voice irritated.
"Perhaps I will," she said coolly. Inara headed downstairs into the kitchen. Inside, there was a nice looking girl of about twenty-three. Her features were obviously of Chinese descent and she was peeling potatoes with amazing speed. Inara watched her put each peeled root into a big pot of water.
"Hello," Inara said gently. Bridget jumped at the sudden noise and dropped her knife. Inara winced slightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Oh, you didn't…just got surprised…," said Bridget retrieving the knife from the floor. She looked over at the source of the voice and was mildly shocked at what she saw. This woman was no doubt a companion. Her clothes were beautiful and expensive. Her make up and hair were flawless. Bridget had never met a real companion and wasn't sure what to say to someone of such social standing.
"I see Mal's finally hired a cook," said the companion as Bridget began peeling potatoes agian.
"Er, well, not hired, really, I'm just hitchhiking," Bridget answered. "I'm just earnin' my keep."
"I'm sure he's pleased with that," said Inara. "How rude of me, I never introduced myself. I'm Inara Serra."
"Bridget Li," she responded. "You're a companion, aren't you?"
"I am," said Inara with a smile.
"What a glamorous lifestyle," said Bridget, a little envious.
"It certainly can be," she answered.
"I'd never be able to do what you do. I'm in no way beautiful or seductive," said Bridget.
"Nonsense! I think you're very pretty," said Inara.
"I ain't nothin' special. 'Sides, I'm no good at talking to men, much less makin' 'em sweat," Bridget said with a little smirk.
"You just haven't found the right one yet," Inara soothed.
"If there's a 'one' out there. I dunno if I quite believe in the idea," Bridget confessed. "Men're pigs anyhow."
"Yes, that's true in most cases," said Inara. "But sometimes prince charming isn't who you thought he'd be."
"Speaking from personal experience?" asked Bridget.
"Sometimes I wonder," said Inara vaguely. "Well, perhaps I should leave you to your cooking. I have some business to attend to in my shuttle."
"Alright, well, it was sure nice meeting you," said Bridget.
"Likewise," Inara said as she drifted delicately from the kitchen, her uncertainties about the new passenger completely gone.
"Sure met a lot of interesting people today…," Bridget muttered with a little grin. She piled the rest of the peeled potatoes into the pot and turned up the burner.