Easy Tickets

by mal4prez

Serenity has a few guests come aboard, but they're not the welcome kind.

1. Part 1 of 9

Easy Tickets: Part 1/9 (Chapters 1-3)

The Firefly verse belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy,
and the rest. I'm just playing with it, and not making any money.

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Author's note: This is a continuation of The Fish Job. As I mentioned in that story's header, these have been posted on fireflyfans and livejournal, so my apologies if you've seen them too many times! I want to post new chapters here, but need to get the old stuff up first.

This series of fics follows Objects in Space, and doesn't attempt to tie into the movie. Easy Tickets is 25 chapters and an epilogue, which I will post in nine parts. It's rated R for dark themes and a bit of sex, which I will probably tone down to non-explicit for posting here. (It wasn't so very explicit to start with, really... so no biggy.) Pairings are canon.

Many thanks to fireflyfans members vera2529, LeeH, and Guenever for beta reading on Easy Tickets.

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Chapter 1.

The Firefly class transport was tucked away in a shallow dusty valley far from the city, but it was being watched.

A tall, gaunt man stood against a rock face at the lip of the valley, nearly invisible in a strip of shade cast by the mid afternoon sun. Even in full sunlight he'd have been hard to spot against the buff stone: his boots were scuffed, the blue of his denim pants had long ago gone gray, and his light brown shirt was covered by a ragged tan leather jacket that hung down to mid thigh. As was his habit, the right side of his coat was tucked behind the holster on his hip to keep his gun handy.

Ray Whittaker had a broad face that might have crinkled kindly if he ever smiled; as it was, he only looked a decade older than his forty some years. His skin had been toughened by summer's hot sun and winter's freezing wind, and constant squinting in the glare of dust and snow had formed deep lines around his cool blue eyes. A slight breeze lifted his thin sandy gray hair. He'd taken his hat off on account of its dark color; he didn't want to risk being seen, no matter how unlikely at this distance. Ray had been looking hard for this chance, and a better one was not like to come in time for his needs. He had to move careful.

"Will," Ray said softly. His deep voice matched his appearance: spare, just enough to get the job done and nothing wasted. "Glasses."

He held out a hand to the man crouched behind a boulder beside him. Will's coal-gray coat and dusty black clothes would have stood out, so he stayed low as he handed up a pair of field glasses. Ray lifted them to his eyes, pressing his back against the rock to keep the lenses out of the sun.

"How many are we facing?" Will asked, his mouth hanging open in a grin as he cracked his knuckles cheerfully. To Ray's relief, he didn't try to affect a border world accent out here. The man stank at it.

Ray studied the figures moving in front of the ship on the valley floor. He made sure of what he saw before he spoke.

"Six. Three guns, three soft."

Ray handed the glasses back down to Will, who stayed in the spotty shade of a large dead bush as he rose to his knees and had a look for himself. Ray waited patiently, something he didn't do for many people.

"I see what you're saying," Will said. "Three gunhands: the Browncoat, the dark woman… and some big guy." He snorted a short laugh. "He really likes his gun. He's petting it more than Ginger does hers." He glanced up at Ray with a grin; Ray pointedly returned a frown.

Will shrugged and turned back to the glasses, and to Ray's annoyance he continued to mutter to himself. "I never understood the need to fondle a weapon, no matter how shiny it is. It's not like you can screw it. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if this guy has tried."

Ray scowled at Will's laugh; it was no time to be chatty. But he held his tongue and waited for his partner in crime to size up the three civilians.

"That cutey who sweet talked Jase into buying the cables won't be a problem. The blond guy won't either, looks like a complete jackass." Will paused, and when he spoke again his tone wasn't so light. "Don't count the old man out. I don't like how he moves. Too smooth."

Ray nodded; he'd gotten through his share of scrapes, but he'd never been fool enough to think he knew everything. Ray had lived his whole life on this little world. Will, though he never talked it, had come from the Core, and sure as hell he'd been military. No matter how grating Will got, his counsel had weight.

"So, four fighters against our four guns," Ray summed up, "on their turf." He let his dour tone express his opinion.

"Sure, that's not the easiest," Will agreed. "But then again, Hank counts for more than one, the way he draws. And…" Will glanced over his shoulder at Ray, "we could go in with five."

Ray tensed. This discussion shouldn't come up anymore. "Jase don't fight, you know that."

Will only shrugged and looked back at the ship.

Ray squinted to see what he could of the distant crew. One of the figures – the one with blond hair – went back into the hold.

"They have a shuttle missing," Will said.

Ray let out a heavy breath. Always more complications. "Won't be good if it shows while this is goin' down."

"You worry too much. Ginger can stay outside, scare it off."

"Leaves only three of us to – " Ray started, but was interrupted by Will's sharp laugh.

"Ha! What have we here?" Will leaned forward and propped his elbows on a rock to steady his view. "Jīng căi, there's a hatch on top, propped wi-ide open."

"Can you get to it?" Ray asked.

"The Firefly is a well designed ship, but she's not the most aerodynamic. I can climb the ass end of her."

Ray considered it; a second entry point might just give him the upper hand. "Let's move quick, fore they take off," he said. He started to turn away, but then he froze and watched close when a hovercraft pulled out of the belly of the ship, the blond hair of the driver glinting in the sun. After more discussion amongst the distant crew, the scooter loaded up and went on its way over the far end of the valley, leaving a trail of yellow dust.

Will gave a dry laugh. "Now how about that – their six guns is down to two. All we have is a washed up Browncoat and an old man between us and the good life."

Will seemed to think the ship was theirs already, and Ray scowled again. Will may know spaceships and guns and the like, but he was too gorram cheery. Hadn't seen enough real life, didn't know how quick things could go to shit.

Ray watched the two remaining figures walk back into the ship, leaving the bay door open. Will chuckled again at their carelessness, but Ray didn't take time to enjoy the moment. There was work to be done.

"Smile, Ray!" Will said with a grin as he tucked the glasses back into his coat pocket. "We just scored an easy ticket out."

Ray didn't smile. He turned to make his way down the back side of the hill, pausing briefly to pluck his hat off a dead branch and settle it on his head.

"Ain't nothin' on this world easy," he muttered.

.*. .*. .*.

Five days ago

Malcolm Reynolds stood at the edge of his ship's open cargo bay door with his hands on his hips, his dark blue button down shirt sticking wetly to his back. The door wasn't quite all the way open; it stuck straight out, making a horizontal platform that extended over the edge of the dark gray rock Serenity was perched on. What Mal saw a few meters below the open door presented him a slight quandary; a decision needed to be made. He fanned the front of his shirt to cool himself as he considered his options.

A piercing shriek from inside the ship made him jump and turn around, then move quickly aside. A howling blur of white skin, spiky blond hair, and yellow and green flowered boxer shorts came tearing through the airlock and launched itself off the edge of the platform. Mal stepped back to avoid the splash of water that came up a second later.

"Hell yeah!" Jayne called out as he followed Wash across the bay at a more dignified pace. He stopped in the airlock and casually stripped himself down to his skin, then turned back to yell into the bay, "Any a' you lady-folk comin'? Cause I'm a'gonna jump in any second now and you're gonna miss out!" Jayne stretched his arms overhead. No way he'd miss a chance to show off his physique after all the time he spent at the weight bench.

"Captain, can I shoot him and spare us all the horror?" Zoë asked as she stepped off the stairs near the airlock, holding up a hand to shelter her eyes from the horror in question. She was wearing a tank top and a somewhat sedately patterned pair of Wash's boxers, and had a couple of towels slung over her shoulder.

"Only if his carcass falls in the water," Mal answered. "You know how I dislike a messy ship."

"She ain't even got a gun," Jayne said in disgust, resting his fists on his hips.

Zoë dropped her towels and slapped her hand to her forehead. "What was I thinkin'? Mama always told me to take my pistol along to the swimmin' hole..." Her voice fell as she gave Jayne a pointed look. "...in case some overgrown perv shows up."

Jayne's argument was a short snort, but Zoë ignored him, tying her long curly hair back as she turned to call out the door, "How is it dear?"

"Holy mother of Buddha! You have no idea!" Wash's voice echoed through the open airlock. "The view is awful though. Jayne, could you please get your chŏu è de pìgu in the water so I don't have to look at it?" A splash caught the mercenary's back.

Mal watched Zoë dive in, then turned to start up the stairs she'd just come down. Jayne had solved his dilemma for him: walking around naked after getting swindled by his troublesome pseudo-wife was one thing, but being in the same class of tacky as Jayne wasn't acceptable. He'd take a minute to find some clothes to swim in.

As he entered the corridor outside the crew quarters, Kaylee was just stepping off her ladder. She was wearing a smile bigger than her cutoff tank top and shorts combined. Mal averted his eyes – it was like seeing a little sister in a state of undress – just not right.

"Good lord, Kaylee, who are you wearin' that get-up for?"

Her smile turned a bit crooked. "You really gotta ask?"

He looked back at her. "Oh no. You ain't even. I do not need any more shipboard sweethearts makin' trouble so you better – "

Kaylee tilted her head in frustration and interrupted him. "Cap'n, I live on this ship, all the dang time! If there ain't no shipboard lovin', there ain't nothin'." She kept her rant going as she walked toward him, shaking an accusatory finger. "Now that may be okay for you, mister I-ain't-got-no-hormones, but it ain't workin' out so well for me!"

"I got hormones!" Mal said defensively as she walked past him.

"Well, what you got you store up for helpless lookin' women tryin' to steal our ship! What good does that do anybody?" She cast him a dark look as she turned the corner.

Mal frowned after her a second, then yelled, "I got hormones a'plenty."

There was no reply. As he started down the ladder into his bunk. he found himself wondering what a Registered Companion would have for swimwear. Most like he'd be finding out soon.

He returned to the cargo bay a few minutes later wearing only the knee length black pants he normally slept in. Simon and Book were standing on the platform, watching some game that involved much noise-making and splashing. Shepherd Book didn't appear to have plans to partake; he was fully dressed and stood to the side and back out of the splash zone. Simon, however, was right on the edge, wearing only a pair of baggy pants and smiling uncertainly at the antics below. Since the doctor didn't hear him coming, Mal took the opportunity to give him a casual shove, then waved innocently when Simon came up spluttering.

Mal didn't have long to enjoy his prank; he felt a hand on his own back and in he went, nearly landing on top of Kaylee. He surfaced to see a copy of his own innocent wave from Book. The preacher had to nimbly jump off the side of the platform onto the rocks to escape the armful of water Mal aimed at him.

"And you doubted me!" Wash yelled from behind Mal.

Mal turned in the water, "What? Me? What'd I doubt?"

Wash's voice turned high and whiny as his hands waved over his head in mock panic. "No, we can't land there! It's so near the scary water! You'll wreck my pretty ship and I'll have to shoot you and then Zoë'll shoot me and – "

Wash's falsetto hysterics were cut off when Zoë pushed his head under. Mal kicked himself over to join them, and pushed Wash down again as soon as the pilot came up. The following water battle went on for some time, drawing in Kaylee, Simon, and Jayne, and eventually forcing Book to wonder off to drier places.

When things settled down a bit, Mal looked around for his two missing crew members. He spotted River floating on her back about twenty meters out, studying the sky. The inland sea was big enough to have a bit of surf that focused in their little cove, and the girl's body tipped slowly side to side in the waves. Further beyond her he saw a dark head and two arms smoothly cutting toward the mouth of the cove. Mal put his own head down and started out into the open water. On his way, he dove under River and give a little push to the small of her back. When he came up on her far side he dodged her half-hearted splashes with a laugh, then continued on his way.

The water was warm, almost too warm given the temperature of the air and the heat of the late afternoon sun. It was like the ponds on Shadow in midsummer, warm enough to stay in after the sun set and the air cooled. And it was fresh and clean – no engine exhaust or factory run-off on this remote world they'd happened on.

Mal hadn't had a good swim since he'd left home; he'd near forgotten how it felt. The freedom and weightlessness of it stripped the years off him. He found himself smiling still as he angled toward Inara, grinning like a kid on summer holiday with all his chores done for the day.

.*. .*. .*.

Jayne drifted a few meters from the ship, watching Kaylee watch Simon. The doctor was half out of the water, an elbow hooked through the cargo net that hung down from the platform, his free arm wiping at his reddened eyes.

"This water is full of… dirt or something!" Simon said.

"Hey, I ain't peed in it," Jayne said with a grin. "Not yet anyhow."

Simon looked at Jayne with disgust. "I don't know how you manage to surpass yourself, but there you go again." He climbed further out of the water.

"Oh come on. Simon!" Kaylee was holding the bottom of the netting like she was waiting for the doctor to quit his fussing and drop back in.

"It's nature, doc," Jayne said, enjoying how easy it was to creepify the lad. "Water's plum full a' fish poop and dead animals and all kinds of green stuff. A little piss don't hurt nothin'."

Simon's look of disgust turned to something near nausea, and he climbed up another step. "You can't be serious."

"Ain't you ever gone swimmin' before?" Kaylee asked, and she made a grab for his foot.

"In a pool. A civilized pool where people control their bodily functions." Simon shook her off and grabbed ahold of the edge of the platform to heave himself up.

Kaylee frowned and called after him, "He was only kiddin'!" She looked back at Jayne. "Weren't ya?"

"Don't go speakin' for me," Jayne told her.

Simon disappeared from sight, and Kaylee still hung on the net, swallowing her disappointment. "Jayne, what'd ya have ta scare him off for?" she asked in a low voice.

"Ain't exactly hard to do," Jayne replied loudly. "Pansy's scared a' his own – "

A curled up body hit the water directly between Kaylee and Jayne. Simon didn't have an evil cackle in him, but he did manage an excellent mischievous grin when he came up and saw both of his targets wiping their eyes.

When Kaylee could see well enough to recognize the source of the cannonball attack, she happily tumbled off the cargo net, landing square on top of the doctor.

.*. .*. .*.

Book smiled at the distant sound of Kaylee's delighted shrieks. This world had a hot climate, and he meant to join in the swimming at some point, but for now he was content to stretch his legs and breathe the fresh, clean air.

No one was sure just how bad the Alliance wanted to find Mal, but it was clear that the crew ought to lay low for a spell. The few fueling stops made in the past month had been handled by Zoë and Jayne, so most of the crew hadn't been off Serenity since they'd left New Melbourne.

Book wandered the open space around the ship, watching birds flit between the trees that lined the natural landing pad. It was an ideal spot to park, and the break was exactly what the crew needed. A soul couldn't stay in the black forever. Everyone needed to see greenery, to feel the energy of life and health around them.

He ambled into a patch of tall evergreens. The ground was spongy with fallen needles and the trees were bare of branches for a good ten meters. It created a quiet voluminous space empty of all but dark vertical trunks like columns in a cathedral. The air was cooler here, and smelled of fresh pine and wholesome earth.

Book stopped to drink in the moment, giving thanks to have found such a place. Then his face broke into a wry smile. If the place was all he was grateful for, he supposed he should be tipping his figurative cap to the terraforming crews of the Alliance.

No, it wasn't just this place. It was his ability to leave his cares behind and appreciate what was before him at this moment. Book hadn't always been the kind of man to be aware of such beauty, even when it was as obvious as this.

He crossed himself and bowed his head in the silence.

.*. .*. .*.

Jayne was soon bored by Kaylee and Simon ignoring him, and he went looking for other entertainment

Wash and Zoë had exited the games fairly early; they were busy exploring the irregular rock face, probably looking for a dark cavern to duck into for some private underwater amusement. The captain was on his way out to make trouble with Inara, and Book was off exploring the woods. That left only one person for Jayne to make sport with.

He couldn't deny that River unnerved him a bit. It was nothing to be ashamed of; she was a crazy mind-reading sharp shooter and gods knew what else. It was just common sense to use care around a person like that, no matter how young she was or how little she weighed.

"Whacha doin', nutjob?" he asked from a safe couple of meters away. The only parts of her he could see above the water's surface were her face, hands, and the occasional toe as she cycled her legs to keep her skinny body afloat. Her eyes were wide open and fixed straight up.

Jayne waited a bit, then figured that her ears were underwater as well as her brain. He ducked his mouth under the surface and repeated his question.

"I heard you the first time," she said.

"So?"

He waited, and was almost ready to give up and return to harassing Kaylee and Simon when River said in a distant voice, "It's like being stuck in a ceiling, looking down into a round room. A crystal clear bowl shaped room. Blue walls topped in green."

"Huh?" Jayne replied in confusion.

She lifted a slender leg into the air, foot pointed, then bent her knee and circled her lower leg.

"Ceiling fan," she said.

Jayne had to think about that. Then he tilted his head as far as he could to the side, almost upside down. Frighteningly, he thought he might understand what she was up to. Mighty weird. He looked over his shoulder to make sure that no one was paying them any attention, then he settled into a back float next to her.

"Tip your head back," River instructed, "so you can see the shore and the horizon all around." She glanced over to see Jayne doing as she said before she continued. "Now, look up at the sky, but think about your peripheral vision."

"My what?"

She didn't miss a beat. "The surface of the water, where it meets the sky, is a circle all around you. It's like the ceiling on a giant bowl shaped room made of blue glass."

They quietly drifted for a while before Jayne said "Huh" again. This time the sound was tinged with reluctant understanding.

"Pretend the ceiling is made of gelatin that you can move your arms and legs in, but if you move too much you might slip out of it, and you'll go plunging into the bowl. Fall until you smash through the glass and break the sky."

Jayne was still for a few more seconds, then he suddenly pulled himself vertical with a nervously muttered, "Gorram, you are one frackin' loon!"

River laughed as she slowly swished her arms and legs around her. "Don't be afraid, you can't really fall upwards."

"I ain't afraid," Jayne said with disgust, and he stretched out of his back again to prove it.

After a few minutes, River asked him, "Do you see it?"

Jayne didn't want to admit it, but she probably already knew. "Yeah," he said grudgingly. He lacked River's leg flexibility, so he held his arm up and circled it. "Ceiling fan," he said with a chuckle.

"You don't need to use your arm," she told him.

"Why not?"

"Your diăo is sticking up."

Jayne looked down his body, then quickly ducked his hips underwater. "Yesu, you ain't supposed to be lookin' at that!"

Unfazed, River continued to float, but with a smirk on her face. "You shouldn't let it stick out of the water, dirty old man. Put some clothes on."

"Cap walks around nekked."

"Captain's not a dirty old man."

"I ain't…" Jayne's face pinched in annoyance. "It's a natural thing that happens, is all. I ain't no perv. I don't like little girls."

"I know."

"It's just the warm water."

She sighed, like she was getting bored with this now. "I know."

Jayne looked around, again relieved that the whole crew was occupied with their own business. "You ain't gonna tell nobody, are ya?"

River pulled herself up and looked Jayne in the eye, her face and voice steadfastly serious.

"Jayne?"

"What?"

"I really don't care what your diăo is doing."

Jayne frowned, not sure if he was relieved or insulted. Not care? How could somebody, a female no less, not even care?

"Can you do a somersault?" River asked, then she disappeared with a small splash, surfacing a second later with a sheet of wet hair covering her face. "Like that," she burbled.

"Course."

She flipped her hair back. "Show me! But keep your butt underwater. I'm already emotionally scarred."

Jayne sneered at her for a second, then he took a deep breath and dove forward into the water.

.*. .*. .*.

Mal caught up to Inara without being noticed, and took advantage of the opportunity.

"Shèng hémă!" she swore, spinning awkwardly toward him. He dodged the foot that swung by his face as she pulled her knee out of his grip.

"Shouldn't be swimmin' alone out here," he said with a grin. "I might a'been a sea monster."

"Are you implying that you're not?" she replied, then she ducked under the water and came up with her head back, shaking her hair out of her face. Her white swim top made her bronze skin look golden, and the smooth lines of it perfectly fit her curves. Mal couldn't help but notice; his grin broadened.

"Well, if I was, I might be pullin' ya along to my lair in the deeps bout now."

"I'm shuddering in fear," she said dryly, but he saw a small smile before she turned to be discrete about clearing her nose of water.

"You should be scared." Mal was feeling recklessly playful, and he drifted closer, his head low in the water as he stalked her. "Sea monsters been known to do some mighty bad things." He made another grab for her leg, but Inara slipped sideways and circled behind him.

"Such as?"

He turned to follow her. "Mayhap I got a nest a' hungry little sea monsters to feed."

Inara turned away to glance toward shore. "That you certainly do."

Before she could turn back, some juvenile urge had Mal diving forward to grab her around the waist, and he pulled her under with him. There was a long second where the length of her back pressed against his side, and her hair above him made a dark cloud against the streaks of green light penetrating the water. Then she turned in his arms and he felt her hand on his chest, but only to push him away as she twisted free.

When Mal came up, Inara had distanced herself from him and was wiggling a finger in her ear. "Very charming, Captain," she said shortly.

The title caught him off guard, but he tried to ignore it. "Sea monsters ain't never been known for charm."

"So I see." Her voice was laced with irritation, and now he could see no hidden smile.

"Come on, nara," he said, confused by her change of attitude. "Why you bein' so an-ti-social? Come join the fun!" He splashed a little water at her.

She held up her hands to block the splash, then wiped her eyes with a look of annoyance. "I'm not antisocial. I just want to get some exercise, to enjoy the space and the quiet." Slightly winded from the effort of speaking while treading water, Inara tilted to float on her back and catch her breath.

Inara floated higher in the water than River, and she had more parts that broke the surface. Mal thought it best that he follow both her example and look at the sky for a while. He tipped back and let the soft waves cradle him.

"It is nice to be out in the open, ain't it?" he murmured, trying to figure her mood. She hadn't been tetchy like this in a while. "Blue sky, sunshine, lots a' greenery." When she didn't answer, he smirked and tilted his head to glance toward her. "Not an entirely unpleasant day for swimmin'." He hoped to get under her skin with that, but she didn't even seem to notice.

"Let's just hope the greenery is full of edible game and non-poisonous plants," she said, "or your crew of hungry monsters may turn mutinous."

Mal didn't reply; he'd almost forgotten the real reason they'd landed here. His good mood dissipated as he recalled the state of things on his ship. They weren't out of money yet, but what they had was being saved for fuel and the odd chance that they'd find cargo to invest in. With a sigh, he let his ears sink under water to muffle everything but the sound of his own breathing. When he realized Inara was speaking again, he pulled his head up.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I said this is fascinating, but I'd like to keep swimming. I haven't had a water workout since I left the House."

"Yeah, guess you don't get much exercise. Outside of a bed, that is." It was the kind of smartass thing he tried not to say to her anymore, but it slipped out before he could stop it.

"Actually, there hasn't been much of that kind of exercise either," she replied testily.

"What, are you feelin' a mite… tense bout it?" he asked, trying to bring back the playfulness.

"Not at all," Inara snapped. "I'm feeling a mite unemployed, and that's not what I pay you rent for."

Surprised at the venom in her voice, Mal didn't answer. He closed his eyes and slipped down into the quiet darkness, letting his arms float above him. Dìyù, what was he supposed to do, feel bad that she couldn't find clients on planets like this, worlds with nothing but farmers? He couldn't take the ship near any place civilized enough for folks to be spending their coin on sex, not after what had happened on Oeneus. Serenity had to stay far out on the rim; there wasn't a thing to be done about that.

When he broke the surface again Inara was already a good distance away, sliding almost silently through the water. He rolled onto his back again and began to slowly kick his way back toward the shore.

.*. .*. .*.

Inara settled into a smooth rhythm, breathing every other stroke and pausing occasionally to open her eyes and check her location. It had been so long, she'd forgotten the calming effect of moving through warm water.

Swimming had been her preferred workout at House Madrassa. Done a certain way, it exercised the heart and lungs, lightly sculpted the upper body and abdomen, but didn't build lower body muscles which would be deemed unattractive by the type of men she marketed herself to. At the House she'd swam in the indoor pool, confined to a roped off lane, watching the black stripe pass beneath her and checking the clock after every lap.

She came to think of her time in the pool as meditative, one part of her mind focused on her technique and lap times, the rest of her thoughts free to roam where they would. Here, in an open sea where she kept her eyes closed against the algae and there was no need to worry about technique, her entire mind was free to wander.

She couldn't escape regret over the way she'd just dismissed Mal. He'd clearly been feeling better than he had in the past month, maybe more at ease then she had ever seen him, and she'd cut him down. He hadn't even realized that she'd done it deliberately. But defending herself against him was an instinct she couldn't suppress.

If only she'd taken a ride with the first freighter she'd contacted on New Melbourne, insisted on heading to the Core no matter the cost or delay. But she hadn't, and Serenity had left in a hurry and she'd missed her chance. Then Mal had gone missing on Oeneus, before she could even begin to look for transport, and when the crew got him back he'd been in bad shape. On the verge of insanity, falling to pieces after what the Alliance had done to him. It was the only time she'd ever seen the man out of control of himself.

Even after his ordeal with Niska, Mal had been more concerned with the crew then himself, his post-torture soreness amounting to nothing more than a joke. What happened on Oeneus was a different matter. The Alliance had torn into his mind, and that's something even a very strong willed man can't pull himself out of. He'd needed help, but would never have admitted it. It had taken a significant amount of desperation on his part and a bit of trickery on hers to make him to take a smoother and finally get the rest he needed to heal.

Inara paused to tread water and look back toward shore. She was surprised to find herself so far out that it took a few seconds to locate the ship against hills glowing orange in the sunset. She aimed herself toward Serenity and started back.

What a relief it had been to see him let go, slouching on the sofa in her shuttle with a serene smile, telling her that he felt 'nice.' Inara had to pause in her swimming as a small laugh broke out of her at the memory. The man could be downright disarming when he let himself. Sea monster, indeed. It made her wonder what he'd been like, back before the war. She shook her head at her lack of mental discipline. It did no good to think of the past; she should know that as well as anyone.

She checked her direction again and swam on.

She could have gotten Mal to take the smoother using only deception, but she'd known that the drug would make him drop his defenses. He would have resented her for fooling him like that, and rightly so. His pain was private; she had no more right to it than the Alliance did. So Inara had given him a fair return. She'd told him how she'd been hurt once too, violated in body like he'd been violated in mind. That had allowed him to trust her, to see that the help she offered came from empathy, not pity, and he could accept it with his pride intact.

Inara kicked harder at the water. That had been an even trade, she should have left it at that. But she'd only made a mess of things when she kissed him. He'd blamed himself the next day, apologizing like he'd forced himself on her, but she knew that she was the one at fault.

Thinking he was asleep, his face peaceful after days of being drawn and defensive, she'd kissed his forehead. That was all she'd meant to do, and there was no harm in that. But he hadn't been fully asleep. She'd felt his fingers gentle on her cheek and he turned toward her, eyes still closed, and without thinking she'd leaned down to brush her lips against his. He'd kissed her back, soft and sensual and intense, but so very different from the sexual intensity of the art she practiced.

Merciful Buddha, the sweetness of it had melted her through – and she'd barely kept herself from sobbing when Mal fell away from her, finally asleep, leaving her alone with the unbearable impossibility of it.

Inara realized that her shoulders were aching from the power of her strokes and she made herself stop. She rolled onto her back to drift and catch her breath, grateful that the water blended with the tears that welled in her eyes, rinsing them away.

Gods, if only she'd kept her mouth shut the next day, and not told him that the kiss wasn't unpleasant, words he could and would use against her at any time. She shouldn't have said anything because now he knew. Now they both knew and couldn't hide behind their bickering like they used to.

She needed that wall between them again, even if she had to build it herself. She'd been too free with him since Oeneus; it had to stop. For Buddha's sake, he'd just pulled her underwater, touching her and holding her against him like that was some right he had. As if she would ever allow it to happen. She shouldn't have let it get so far.

Distant shouts reached her and Inara realized that the sky she was staring into was turning a dark blue. She looked toward the sound and saw that the warm light of the cargo bay wasn't far. Towel covered bodies beckoned her home for supper; she waved back and started toward them at a lazy breast stroke.

She shouldn't have allowed anything to change between her and Mal. It would only make matters worse, because nothing had really changed.

She still had to leave.

.*. .*. .*.

Translations
jīng căi: brilliant
chŏu è de pì gu: ugly butt
diăo: penis
shèng hé mă: holy hippopotamus
dì yù: hell

---

Chapter 2.

Will hummed to himself as he followed Ray down the barren hillside. He could read annoyance in the tense set of Ray's shoulders, but that just brought a loose smile to Will's tanned face. Ray was a good contact, and it tickled Will to no end that Ray'd brought him in on this job, but the guy really needed to lighten up.

Will glanced up the sky, the most interesting thing to look at on this crappy rock. It was near midsummer, so the sun stayed well above the planetary rings all day. The curving section of the rings directly below the sun reflected white light brightly, then faded off into the blue of the sky to either side. The crystalline outer rings were the impressive; the minerals in them scattered sunlight into a pattern of colors, forming a spectacular arc that could be followed from horizon to horizon.

His toe caught on a crag, reminding him to watch the ground under his feet. No matter how shiny the sky, the land wasn't something to be taking your eyes off for long. The stone was uneven and hard, with no soil to cover it. Dead brush and fallen tree limbs never rotted here, they just dried up into dust and blew away.

He hadn't seen what the world was like Before, as locals referred to it, but now the whole gorramn place was a crematorium, slowly shriveling away to nothing. He'd never have chosen to come here; no one in their right mind would spend any more time on this dead planet than they had to. But he went where his orders told him to go. So far, his stay on this world had been on the dull side, but that looked to be changing in the very near future.

The two men reached a last rough outcrop and Will followed Ray's example, crouching and using his hands to scramble down. They found the others where they'd left them, gathered in the shade of one of the few trees still standing, dead though it was.

"Gather up," Ray said to the others, motioning to the ground in front of him.

Ginger was reclining on a rock, her shoulder length grey-brown hair pinned back out of her eyes. She was looking over her rifle, frowning at the dust which she could never be free of on this world. That woman cared for her weapon like it was her firstborn. In a way, Will knew, it was.

He nodded to her. When they first met he'd had to salute. She'd been in the service a good five years longer than he and could have earned command of their unit, but Ginger wanted nothing more than a comfy place to sit and a target to aim at. That was just one of the things he liked about her: the lack of complications. She'd gotten a little plump since the war ended, and her hair had greyed, but she shot true as ever and was just as lively in the sack. Or, against the wall. He couldn't hide a smirk and he stuck a thumb in his belt, recalling the morning's play.

Hank sat apart from Ginger, the dusty ground around him spattered with pools of spittle from his chew. The man hadn't been anywhere near a razor, a brush, or likely a bar of soap in a long while. He stank to high heaven. He was a strange one, hardly spoke, but rumor had it that Hank was the best shot around. Quick and cool on the draw. Will didn't know about all that, but Ray said the man did what he was told without arguing, and that was enough.

The boy Jase was over by the old transport pod that had brought them out from the city, slouching in the dust with his black hair hanging over his face. He was still in his teens, sixteen he'd said when Will asked. Will hadn't believed him at first; Jase looked younger than that on account of his small size. But, like Ray, Jase's eyes showed that the times he'd survived added up to more than the years he'd been alive. Also like Ray, Jase didn't smile much.

Ginger and Hank gathered around Ray, who nodded to Will. Ray wasn't much of a talker; he preferred to let Will lay out the plan. Will nodded back and crouched in the dust, using a stick to draw a rough schematic of the Firefly. He'd spent time on one before; he knew the layout.

"Ginger," he said, keeping his tone impersonal, "set up out front so you can see into the bay, and help out if it comes to shooting. But mainly you need to keep watch in case the shuttle or the hovercraft come back. Do what you need to scare them away.

"Hank, you'll go in the front with Ray. You two have a nice friendly palaver with whoever you find while I go in the top way. Be ready to draw, but don't kill anyone unless you have to. We may need them alive to help out later."

Will pulled his bandanna out of his back pocket to pat the sweat off his face as he studied Hank, trying to see if the man had caught all that. Hank looked like he should be headman of some loony cult. Behind his thick brows, his eyes narrowed in what might have been disappointment, but then he shrugged and turned away to spit.

Will shoved the bandanna in his back pocket and continued telling what he knew. "They have at least two on board. One's the Browncoat I met in town; he's got a gun, and he's sure to know how to use it. The other's an old man, no gun but take care; he's seen action."

"Uh… Will?" Jase asked tentatively from where he still sat against the transport. "What'm I doin'?"

Will looked over, noticing how the kid's lip had swelled up since the morning, but the question wasn't Will's to answer.

Not for the first time, Will wondered about the story behind Ray and Jase. With straight black hair and tilted green eyes, Jase didn't look a bit like Ray, and they sure didn't act like family. For a brief time, Will had supposed that the old guy was sly and liked his sport young. Wouldn't be exactly rare; the Cartel that had done the terraforming on this planet kept business largely in the family, and that didn't include Chinese. Most black-haired folk on this world had been imported for specific purposes: mostly grown men for labor and young women for wives, but there were always other things some folks would pay for. Not too many reasons for a boy Jase's age to be here with no family to take care of him.

But that notion had died quickly. Ray avoided Jase like a bad smell. The man was quick with a heavy hand when the kid did something stupid – like just that morning – but other than that didn't talk to him or even look at him if he didn't have to.

Ray spoke up without looking away from the diagram in the dust. "Stay with the transport. I'll send for you after we're in." Ray didn't wait for a response; he glanced around at the rest of his bunch. "We got real lucky bout the small crew, gotta get in and get gone quick. Let's move."

.*. .*. .*.

Four days ago

Mal roused Zoë, Jayne, and Book just before sunrise. After a visit to the weapons locker and a brief hunting safety lecture (delivered by Mal, mainly addressing Jayne), stressing the importance of not shooting in the direction of the ship, Book and Jayne set off in one direction and Mal and Zoë in the other.

Kaylee and Wash came down the ramp an hour later and went about setting up a filtration system and a series of pipes to fill Serenity's water tanks. The conversion of atmospheric oxygen to liquid form for storage was more complicated than the water filtering; they had to take turns watching over it while it ran, constantly chipping off ice that formed on the connectors.

Simon had his own task, with River to assist him. He brought out his handheld computer loaded with a horticultural encyclopedia and searched the area around the ship for greenery to round out the crew's diet until they could stock up on supplements.

Simon was feeling pleased with River's state. Ever since they left New Melbourne nearly a month ago, she'd been remarkably stable. Almost like the little sister he remembered. He'd kept her on a steady dosage of smoothers, and her system hadn't broken them down yet. It had been a weight off his shoulders to see her happily passing the days playing games with Kaylee on the ship, and even to see her swimming with Jayne the day before.

"River, I found something!" he called after a while. She skipped over to him, and he showed her a plant and its picture on the screen. She plucked a leaf and chewed a corner of it, then made an expressive face.

"It's better than scurvy," Simon said.

"You've had scurvy?"

"Well… no."

"Then how do you know?" She spat out the leaf and made a face like a gagging cat. "Tăo yàn!"

"Fine. See if you can do better." He held the little computer out to her.

River's eyes narrowed at the challenge; she took the computer and turned away. Simon worked on stripping leaves from the plant he'd found and putting them into a bag; by the time he finished, she'd disappeared. He left the bag of leaves on an outcrop and went looking for his wayward sister.

He found her a short distance into the woods, standing on the edge of a clearing, the little computer held loosely in her left hand. Her head was tilted to the side and her eyes were unfocused. Simon felt worry tighten his stomach; he hadn't seen that look on her face in weeks. He took the computer out of her hand before she could drop it.

"Mèi mei, did you find something?" he asked cautiously.

She started out her reverie and looked at him. "Belong here."

"Who does?"

She held up her right hand; it was balled into a fist. She squeezed and watched with detached interest as a rivulet of red ran down the underside of her arm and dripped off her elbow.

"River, what did you – " Simon grabbed her wrist and forced her hand open. A rich, sweet smell rose from a pulpy mass of dark red lying on her palm. He smiled in relief. "Raspberries."

River studied the crushed fruit in her hand. "Have all they need. Sun, water, food. Belong here, all together. Have a job to do."

She shifted her eyes toward the clearing beside them; it was filled with heavily-laden berry bushes. Simon's smile widened. "Ai ya! Everyone will be so happy! Especially Kaylee." He started to congratulate her with a hug, but she stopped him, a look of growing desperation in her eyes.

"I just found them," she said. "Didn't make them. The bushes make the berries."

"Of course you don't make berries, you pick them," Simon said, confused.

"You don't understand. It's not what I – " She tipped her hand so that the crushed berries slid to the ground, then looked up at the treetops in frustration. He saw that her eyes were sparkling with tears.

"I'm sorry," Simon told her. "If you could just explain to me, I want to under – "

"Can't explain! Don't know." She wiped at a falling tear, leaving a red smear over her cheek and mouth. Simon didn't have anything to wipe her face with but his sleeve. He tried, but she pushed his hands away.

"Don't you see?" She stared into the clearing again as she tried to speak evenly. "They are… what they are. Don't need to fight. Well, fine." She held her hands up and shook her head like she was arguing with someone. "Weeds, bugs. It freezes or it doesn't rain enough. But they know about that. That's all… how it is. Natural. Nature."

She paused and licked at the juice on her lips, then her fingertips. She turned to him with a teary smile. "See? Sweet. Wholesome and sweet because it's what they do. How they work. In their nature." Her eyes on Simon's were full of the need to understand and be understood.

"I'm sorry River, I don't… I'm not sure – "

She cut him off in a forceful voice. "I am not a raspberry bush, Simon."

He took a breath to respond, but was unsure of what to say.

"It's not what I do!" Her face twisted with a wrenching look of frustration, then she gave up and turned away.

"River, wait!" Simon called after her. He followed as she ran through the woods, but she was quicker and lighter on her feet and outdistanced him. She sprinted past Kaylee and Wash where they worked by the ship, then paused at the edge of the water to yank off her boots and dress. Before Simon could catch up she dove in and was swimming away, her head underwater so she couldn't hear him calling after her.

.*. .*. .*.

Zoë and Mal returned an hour before high noon feeling mighty; Zoë carried two fat rabbits and Mal proudly slung a wild turkey. They found a fire burning in a pit a safe distance from the ship, where Kaylee and Book were building a large smoker out of an empty cargo canister. Back toward the trees, Jayne was cleaning out a bear carcass that had to weigh damn near twice as much as he did. Mal frowned as he looked at his skinny turkey, and Zoë held up her rabbits, squinting as she compared them to the bear.

"I think he won, sir."

"Pffft," Mal replied in disgust. He set his turkey next to Jayne. "See to this when you're done. Crew'll be thankful to have a little fowl after all that greasy bear meat." Jayne looked up with a grin; Mal wasn't fooling him a bit.

Zoë stayed to help deal with the game while Mal checked on Wash's progress. The water tanks were full, but the oxygen chiller would need to run for much of the afternoon. Then Mal noticed Inara and Simon sitting on the rocks near the sea and headed their way.

"You've got the greens?" he asked Simon.

Simon looked his shoulder. "Yes… well, I found some edible plants but I haven't gathered them yet."

Mal looked out over the water. "I understand the scenery is real pretty, but you have work to do, Doc."

"He's not looking at the scenery, Mal," Inara interjected. "River's been in the water for nearly two hours. We're keeping an eye on her."

Mal looked out and found the face, hands and feet of the girl floating in the water. "She all right?"

"She was upset about the raspberries," Simon said distantly.

Mal arched a brow in disbelief. "Raspberries are upsetting?"

Simon didn't respond, but Inara rose to her feet. "It's all right, Simon. You watch River, I'll take care of it."

"Take care of what?" Mal asked, turning to follow her toward the firepit.

"He told me where the patch is; I'll gather some berries for lunch."

He shrugged. "Fine. I'll come along," he said, his tone casual.

Inara smiled graciously. "That really isn't necessary."

"You can't go out there by yourself."

She stopped at the pile of supplies next to the firepit. "I won't. Kaylee was planning on coming with me."

"Huh?" Kaylee said when she heard her name, and looked up from the door she was attaching to her improvised meat smoker.

"You were planning on coming with me to pick raspberries," Inara explained.

"Ras – ? Oh, raspberries! Yeah, that's right I was!"

"Kaylee, you have work to do," Mal said firmly.

"I'm sure Book can handle it," Inara said as she found a large basket out of the pile of goods, then she turned to the Shepherd. "Can't you?"

"Actually, we are about done here, Captain," Book said, taking a screwdriver from Kaylee.

Mal glared at Book before he replied to Inara. "As Jayne has discovered, there are bears out there, and they do like berries. Specially as appetizers to tasty humans such as yourself."

"Tasty?" Jayne asked with a curious look at the Inara, then back at Mal.

Mal stammered a bit. "I just meant that she's… human, and humans are… tasty. To bears."

"There will be no tasting, bear or otherwise," Inara said sweetly. She set down the basket and picked up her crossbow. Within seconds, she had loaded it and sent a dart over Mal's shoulder, hitting the center of a knot in a tree thirty meters behind him.

Mal turned to look at the tree, then back at her. "Very nice."

"Thank you." She had the crossbow reloaded already.

"Course, predators do tend to move a little faster than trees, and I don't see a dart doin' too much more to a bear, other than makin' it mad."

"I can handle large moody mammals growling at me. I've had a lot of experience with that in the past year." She gave Mal a pointed look.

Mal scowled at Jayne's chuckle, and saw Zoë trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile.

"Inara – " he started.

"Stop worrying, Mal. At the very least I can slow a hungry beast down enough for us to run back to your nán zĭ qì protection."

Kaylee stayed clear of the tiff, picking up the basket Inara had dropped and started toward the woods. Inara set her crossbow on her shoulder and followed while Mal ignored the grins from the rest of the crew.

.*. .*. .*.

"Thank you for playing along with that," Inara told Kaylee as she carefully pulled a plump berry off of a thorny branch.

"Wha'd'ya mean?" Kaylee asked with pink stained lips. More berries were ending in her belly than in the basket.

"About you planning to come along."

"I wouldn't even think of tellin' on ya." Kaylee snuck a look at Inara's serious face. "So why don't you wanna go on a walk with the cap'n?" Kaylee voice was all innocence, but when Inara paused in her berry picking to study the girl, Kaylee couldn't help but smile.

"I know what you're thinking, Kaylee, but there is nothing between Mal and me."

"Course not," Kaylee said, still smiling.

Inara didn't answer, and they picked quietly for a while before Kaylee asked, "Inara, you ain't had a client since that chairman on Oeneus, right?"

"No, I haven't."

"It's been near a month."

"Mm-hmm."

"So… ain't you gettin' a little… antsy?"

"Antsy?"

"You know… when you get used to doin' it all the time and then you don't get to no more?"

Inara looked at Kaylee's blushing face and realized the conversation was no longer about her and Mal. "Are you having a difficult time?" she asked with a gentle smile.

"Wŏ de tiān, á! Swimming with the doc yesterday… but he ain't even interested." Kaylee let out an impatient sigh. "I tell you what, Inara – these days even Jayne's startin' to look good! Did you see him yesterday?"

"Everyone saw him; he made sure of that."

"Yeah. An' if he's lookin' good I know I got problems." Kaylee scratched her nose and left a little raspberry juice on it. "I mean… he does look good, but he's just so… so Jayne! Sides, I couldn't go without the kissin'. Now, Simon…" She stopped with a sad sigh.

"Sounds like you've thought about this." Inara pointed at her own nose; Kaylee got the message and wiped most of the raspberry juice off her face.

"No! Well, yeah, but that's only cause I been all caged up. It ain't natural, livin' like this. And them as could help are just…" Kaylee gave a little harumph of frustration, then looked up at Inara again. "Ain't it tough for you?"

"What I do is for my clients, not for me."

Kaylee's eyes widened in shock. "What? You mean, with your clients, you don't ever…" She raised her eyebrows and nodded suggestively.

"Of course I do." Inara laughed. "I guess I could pretend with quite a few of them, but there are those who would know."

"So you always do?"

"Always."

"Then you gotta be missin' it."

"It's a controlled response," Inara said with an indifferent shrug. "It's enjoyable, but it's not something I need."

Kaylee sat still for a bit and thought about that, then she got up and carefully made her way deeper into the prickly bushes. When she settled down, the majority of the berries she picked were gathered into the folded down top of her coveralls. She was too busy with her thoughts to snack.

"That's a shame, Inara," Kaylee finally said in a soft voice.

Inara responded quickly, as if her thoughts had followed a similar path. "Why? It's my job. A professional chef is trained to analyze the flavors in a dish instead of mindlessly enjoying them, and so he or she experiences food differently than the rest of us. It's the same with a Companion and sex." She'd clearly used this argument before, in her head if not out loud.

Kaylee paused and sat back. "But how bout that one time? You know, when I …"

Inara smiled and relaxed. "That was different. Special circumstances. It was… not really me in a way."

"Maybe it was more you than you think," Kaylee said without looking up.

Inara looked at Kaylee in alarm, "Kaylee, are you saying…"

"No, Inara, don't worry about me. I know what I want, even if he don't. I'm just worried bout you is all."

"You don't need to be. I've chosen my life and I'm happy with it."

Kaylee answered in a small voice. "Maybe you just don't know what you're missin'."

Inara sighed. "Please, Kaylee, enough." She licked her red stained fingers and changed the subject. "So this… thing that you want – how exactly is that going?"

Kaylee shook her head. "I can't seem to get the message across. We have all this fun swimmin', but then he goes off like I'm just some play pal. And not the good kind of playin'."

Inara smiled knowingly. "Smart people are notorious for being stupid. Especially men. Especially doctors."

"Think he's sly or somethin'?"

"I think he's in over his head and he's lost. Be patient, he'll come around."

"Hope so." Kaylee sighed wistfully, "I'm wearin' myself out waitin'."

Kaylee sounded so forlorn that Inara had to laugh. "Be patient, băo bèi. Good things are worth the wait."

"Well then, this is gonna be really, really, really good when it happens…." Kaylee couldn't finish without breaking into a laugh too. She came back over to Inara to pour her gathered berries into the basket.

"So, Inara, why don't you wanna be alone with the cap'n?" Kaylee asked. Inara looked away with a frustrated sigh, but Kaylee continued. "And I ain't talkin' about gettin' all sexed. I thought you two was friendly now, after what happened. After you helped him get better."

"Kaylee, it's… complicated."

"Can't be that complicated."

"Can't it?"

Kaylee nodded in understanding, then smiled sadly. "Yeah, guess it always is."

.*. .*. .*.

Book finished filling the smoker with strips of bear meat and closed the door. Jayne had set up a spit over the fire which currently had several large steaks sizzling. Zoë and Mal had taken the rest of the meat onto the ship for storage in the freezer; it was a good haul for one morning's work.

"I saw you spent some time with River yesterday," Book said to Jayne.

"What?" Jayne looked up with an open mouth. "What'd ya mean?"

"Swimming."

"Oh, yeah." Jayne returned to poking at the fire.

"Did she seem all right?" Book asked.

"Yeah, other than bein' weird. But that ain't nothin' new."

Book stepped up on a rock and looked toward the water, where Simon was still watching over River. "I hope she hasn't taken a step back."

"Back?"

"Yes. She had a bit of an… episode while you were out hunting."

Jayne snickered. "Too bad. It's been all right, her not bein' nutso."

Book looked over in surprise. "How so?"

Jayne shrugged. "I dunno." He scratched his head, then looked at up Book again. "She's been kind'a fun, I guess. Helluva lot more than when she's comin' at me with a knife."

"I can't disagree with that."

"Kind'a like a li'l sis or somethin'."

"Yes. That she is." Book nodded with a fond smile, then stepped down from the rock and sat down. "Do you have any sisters?"

"Just Matty, my little brother."

Book didn't answer. He watched Jayne throw a few more small logs on the fire, spreading the heat to make the meat cook evenly.

"I had one once," Jayne said after a spell.

Book had to backtrack, to remember what they'd been talking about.

"A sister?"

"Yep. She passed since I left home."

"Oh… I'm very sorry."

"No need. Long time ago."

They sat in silence some time before Jayne asked, "So what d'ya think sets her off? Makes her get all nutty?"

Book glanced back out toward the water, but all he could see was Simon, still sitting watch. "Apparently, it was a patch of raspberry bushes."

Jayne snorted and shook his head. "Nutjob."

.*. .*. .*.

The crew finished a lunch of meat grilled over a fire and sat back in the shade of the ship to enjoy their full stomachs. The bear meat was the first real food they'd had since Ricky Lu's seafood ran out, and no one had any complaints.

Although he kept the idea to himself, Mal was thinking that this could become an extended vacation. There was food and fun a'plenty, and no Alliance patrols or troublesome locals to worry over. But experience had taught him the need for pessimism and caution.

During the afternoon, he had Book watch the oxygen chiller, sent Simon to finish with the gathering of greens, and dragged Kaylee and Wash into the ship. It had been quite a while since they'd had her shut down and could run a full check.

It turned out to be a good thing that they did one.

"It's cause of the grapplin' on the servo powerin' the artificial grav drive," Kaylee explained in the engine room, shining a flashlight into an open panel under her hammock. "It's all brittle, just bout worn through. Probably not ever been replaced."

Mal nodded, not overly surprised. If the crew's needs were seen to and no one was currently trying to kill them, the only place for the problem to arise was the ship. Always had to be a gorram problem somewhere.

"Can you fix it?" he asked.

"I'll weld some braces on the grapplin', n' that'll hold up fine. But it's been puttin' strain on the axle, and it don't look good. Tiny little part, Cap'n, but it's real special. Can't fix her without replacin' the whole servo."

"Define 'don't look good'."

"Greasy spots. Nine of em."

Mal raised a brow at her and she explained. "Axle goes, we'll lose internal grav. No big deal if we's settin' still or in orbit; we just float around. But if it goes while she's at full burn, acceleratin' at all, we'll be squished gainst some wall or nother."

"Tāmā de húndàn," Mal swore under his breath.

"That's for sure. Can't be goin' tween worlds with it like this, not if we wanna move fast. Can't be doing any fancy maneuverin' neither. Gotta be real careful."

Mal wasn't about to sit around camping while he knew that his ship wasn't spaceworthy. He delivered the bad news at dinner: they'd have the night to rest up, and in the morning they'd go looking for the part Kaylee needed.

"On the way in, Wash picked up some EM noise," Mal explained. "It's the only sign of tech life on this rock. We'll hunt it down, see if they got anything Kaylee can use."

"And if they don't?" Jayne asked sulkily.

"Ain't your problem to worry over. You just finish curing your bearskin if you wanna take it with, I don't want it stinkin' things up. Wash?"

"Humm?" Wash looked up from where he was cuddling with Zoë.

"If you two really plan on spendin' the night under the stars, you need to rig up some kind of security. It smells like meat out here, and I don't want any of you bein' late night snacks for the wildlife."

"Right, Captain," Wash replied as he tipped his cheek against the side of Zoë's head.

"See to it now, Wash."

Wash sighed and started pulling himself out from under his wife. "You know you worry too much, right?"

"That's my job," Mal said, and looked at Wash like he was daring him to argue.

In the end, everyone except Inara and Mal decided to camp out for the night to take in as much fresh air as possible. Simon didn't seem overjoyed at the prospect, but River was insistent and he wouldn't let her stay outside without him.

They took advantage of the soft floor of pine needles in Book's natural 'cathedral.' Wash set up a small perimeter of electric wire around a shallow dell, meant to be private space for himself and Zoë. Book and Kaylee made a larger area for the rest of the campers.

Mal made sure his crew was set up with fire pits and blankets and checked the smoker before he returned to the ship. He had taken a little razzing from Jayne about being a pansy, like he was afraid to sleep out of doors, but that wasn't why he didn't join them.

It wasn't about needing the comfort of his own bunk, wasn't even about wanting to watch over the ship. He hadn't been sleeping so well in the past few weeks. He doubted that even the cool air of the forest would do the trick, and the last thing he wanted was to lay awake all night listening to Jayne snore. He figured he could enjoy the peace just fine sitting by the cargo bay doors, watching the light of the two local moons on the water.

Before that, he had one order of business to take care of.

.*. .*. .*.

Inara finished rinsing out her suit, still wet from her post-dinner swim, and was just hanging it in the shuttle's head to dry when there was a soft rapping on the shuttle's hatch. It had to be Mal; there was no one else on board, so she was surprised at the knock. But it allowed her a moment to twist her damp hair in a chignon on the back of her head and pull her robe tight around her.

Sure enough, it was the captain. He stood outside the hatch looking at the floor like he was hesitant to bother her.

"To what do I owe the courtesy of the knock?" she asked.

"Wasn't sure if you'd be sleepin'."

"Not yet, though it won't be long. There's nothing more tiring than a good long swim." She motioned for him to come in, then stepped back.

"Suppose not," he said as he followed her.

She walked to the center of the room, but Mal stayed by the hatch, not closing it behind him. "Would you like to sit?" she asked.

"No thanks. Just got a few words to say, won't take long."

"All right." Inara was put on her guard by his formal air. He looked a little… not nervous, but taut?

He cleared his throat. "Look, I, uh…" He paused and took a heavy breath.

"Yes?" she prompted. His unsure manner was almost amusing.

He looked away from her smile. "It's about you takin' Kaylee off today."

"Oh?" Inara's amusement faded. Had he followed them? Overheard? She tried to remember exactly what she'd said to Kaylee, but she let the polite smile on her face change, or the light tone of her voice. "What about it?"

"It... it wasn't appropriate."

Appropriate? Good lord, what had she said? "I must not be fully aware of the propriety of berry picking. Could you explain?"

"Inara… I meant what I said about the danger."

"You mean - all the hungry beasts? You were serious about that?"

He had the grace to look a little embarrassed, but he didn't back down. "Bears don't tend to faint dead away on account a' gettin' hit by one little crossbow dart. And we don't know what other kind'a hungry critters are out there."

In truth, Inara felt more than a little relieved, but she needed to be sure. "So… did you follow us then? To stand guard?"

"If I'd a'followed you the whole crew would'a been on my back. You saw to that."

"I didn't think you were serious!"

"I was. We know nothin' bout this place. And it ain't just wildlife. Don't be forgettin' about people. There's no law out here, and just cause a place looks empty don't mean it is."

This is ridiculous, Inara thought, her relief turning to annoyance. "But we were hardly fifty meters from the ship! Picking berries!"

"Which would'a made it all the more idiotic if you and Kaylee got dead or hurt doin' it."

"Mal, do you understand the meaning of overprotective? If not, you might want to take the time to look it up."

That struck a chord in him, and not a good one. He looked down at the floor for a second, and when he raised his eyes they were so fierce she almost took a step back.

"Inara, you're all kinds of good at arguin' and pointin' out the things I don't know. But, in the future, if I'm doin' anything that concerns the safety of my crew, don't you ever question me."

Inara couldn't look away from him. Though he hadn't changed his stance, there was suddenly a tension in his body that suggested violence. This man had nothing in common with the grinning prankster she'd seen in the water yesterday.

"I'm sorry," she told him softly, still holding his intense stare. "I… I didn't know."

It didn't matter which one was the real Mal; the overbearing tyrant in her shuttle right now was the side he needed for survival, and would always be there. She couldn't let herself forget it.

"It won't happen again," she said, and after a second she added, "Captain."

He watched her closely, as if he was waiting for her to add something sarcastic or flippant. When he realized that she meant what she said, he looked away and the tension left his body. She thought she saw a hint of regret in his face, but when he looked at her again, it was only to give her a short nod before he ducked back out the open hatch.

.*. .*. .*.

Translations
dŏng ma: understand?
tăo yàn: disgusting
mèi mei: little sister
nán zĭ qì: manly
wŏ de tiān, á: dear god in heaven
băo bèi: treasure
tā mā de hún dàn: Mother humping son of a bitch

---

Chapter 3.

Ginger left the rest of her crew; she carefully crept over the crest of the hill and down into the shallow valley, looking for a place to set up. The familiar cold clarity was coming over her already. Lately there hadn't been enough opportunities to snipe, and she'd been getting restless. Not shooting gave her an itch that even Will couldn't scratch; only a job could put her fully at ease.

She loved what she did. She loved how all the stupid complications of life went away and all that was left was the target. She loved the hard satisfaction of making something or someone silently shatter in the center of her crosshairs, and all the effort it took was a bare millimeter's movement of her finger. Like she was the Almighty, striking from a distance with inevitable power.

Ginger could shoot. She'd been good at it the first time she ever had a rifle in her hands, just a nine year old girl on a swampy border world. She'd gotten better since, and the weapon in her hands had gotten a whole lot better too.

A couple hundred meters out from the Firefly's wide open cargo bay, she found an ideal spot. She set her rifle down carefully, almost lovingly, then kneeled behind a rock of just the right height. She folded up her faded green military coat and set down her pack, then took a few seconds to check the ammo in the pistol hanging from her belt.

When she was ready, she rested the rifle barrel on the rock in front of her and squinted through the sights; as she'd expected, the brightness of the afternoon had overwhelmed her vision and she couldn't make out any detail in the dark of ship's cargo hold. She set about fixing the problem by getting a duck billed cap and some heavily shaded goggles out of her pack and putting them on.

She had one thing to do while she waited for her eyes to adjust; she pulled a small comm out of her shirt pocket and activated it. It was time to talk to the boss.

"Aunt Betty, you there?" she said. "It's Ginger."

Of course, the woman wasn't really named Betty. Ginger had a few ideas about who Aunt Betty really was, as did Will, but it wasn't their place to be figuring that out. All they needed to do was carry out the job, exactly as Ray planned it.

Ginger wasn't sure how much Ray guessed about Betty. Most likely, he didn't even care who she really was. The man just wanted the pay-off. The ignorant hick had never even been off this world; he didn't have a clue about how complicated things could be. He didn't know how to cover his ass.

A reply finally came through: I'll be right with you. The voice sounded crisp and clear; it belonged to an elderly woman.

Ginger waited, watching Ray, Will, and Hank. They had been creeping down the hillside, and were just reaching the bottom of the valley. They stopped twenty meters from the Firefly, huddling behind a rock to make final plans.

It was near a minute before the Aunt Betty spoke again.

Ginger, my dear, how are things proceeding?

"These folks are fools. We'll have their ship in a few. Thought you'd wanna have a look." She tipped her head towards the clear blue sky, focusing on the colorful pattern of the rings that encircled the world's belly.

How kind of you to think of me.

The woman's voice was low but pleasant; Ginger never could tell if she was serious when she said things like that. "Locate my signal yet?" she asked.

The visual is coming up now.

Ginger stretched out on her back and waved one arm over her head, keeping it low to the ground. No one who wasn't directly above would see the movement.

"You got me?" she asked.

Yes, thank you. You'll have the ship soon?

"Shouldn't be a problem."

Very good. Let me know when you reach the harvestor, so I can time the rendezvous.

"Will do."

Good luck, deary.

Ginger returned the comm to her pocket, snickering at how easy the conversation had gone. Necessary, too. The signal between herself and Aunt Betty could be tracked and logged by interested third parties, if they knew what to look for.

She settled back to wait; she was good at waiting. Had years of experience with that. One of the main lessons of being in the military, at least the branch of it she'd been in: how to pass time.

Not basic training, of course. There hadn't been any spare time there, which she'd liked. The months following basic had been hard to take; she'd expected to be picked for special ops right away, given of the way she could shoot. Instead, it'd been a year and a half, time she'd had to spend as a grunt in the regular service.

It turned out the delay was for security; she was from an Independent world and the Alliance wasn't sure about her loyalties. It took a series of psyche tests and screenings to convince them that Ginger was just a simple young soldier, honest and steadfast about her talent and her purpose. She could shoot. She didn't much care about the rest. If the Alliance was willing to give her a gun worthy of her abilities and a target to hit, she'd hit it. Simple as could be.

After a time, the Alliance brass made peace with that, and the call came.

The following two decades were a good time. Assassinations, covert ops, always an interesting job, always challenging and satisfying, and the few missions that failed no one could blame Ginger for. She never missed.

When the war came, the missions changed. The small group she'd been working with for the past several years expanded, took on tougher jobs that involved getting behind enemy lines on shithole rim worlds. Sometimes weeks of sneaking and role playing were involved in a single kill. She found it tiresome. But then she started working with Will.

Will was quite a guy. Good at planning a job and carrying it through no matter. Good at getting people to go about things his way. Good in bed, keeping life fun for her in the long breaks between jobs. She thought of him as her man, though she knew he had plenty of other women. Didn't bother her none. She had to have a man to scratch the itch, and she was glad to have such a one as Will to do it. Best of all, he didn't let it interfere with business, and neither did she. They kept it simple. Business and sex. None of that family crap, no possessiveness or silly spats about what else they did with their free time. Nice and simple.

She watched her man split off from the other two and circle toward the back of the Firefly. Then Will gave a signal and the three men walked across the last open space, approaching from the side. Best to go at a walk – less suspicious if they happened to be seen.

They reached the ship. Ginger shifted one eye of her goggles up to her forehead and squinted through the sights again, peering into the Firefly's cargo bay. This time she could make something out: there was a man in there, moving things around. A tall guy, dressed like a Browncoat. Must be the one that Will'd talked to yesterday morning, the captain of the ship.

Motion on the hillside to her right caught her eye and she swung her rifle toward it.

.*. .*. .*.

Three days ago

The crew got up early again, and took a few hours to finish gathering up goods, including several baskets of raspberries and a few large bags of Simon's terrible tasting greens. Mal allowed them a last swim to cool off, then Serenity took to the sky.

The weak EM signals Wash had picked up came from the southern continent of the world, an area covered in a thick blanket of snow. It was mid afternoon local time when Serenity reached the source of the signals: a town situated around a y-shaped river junction. The half-frozen main river wound lazily through a tree-filled valley, and the tributary came down from the west, just finishing its descent through the foothills of a north-south trending mountain range.

The portion of the town on the west side of the main river had a sparse scattering of wooden houses tucked between the heavily forrested hills. The larger section of town was on the flatter east side, and it was full of people out walking the streets.

Wash set them down in an open field near a road leading in from the east. "Radio signals," he told Mal. "Nothing strong. I'd guess there are a few people playing with old comms."

Mal and Wash were on the bridge with Zoë and Kaylee, looking out the windows at the thin traffic on the road in front of them. People in colorful homemade clothing pushed homemade carts through the slush. The buildings looked homemade as well, and there was no sign of lightposts or power cables.

"Don't look like they got much in the way of electronics here, Kaylee," Mal said.

"If they're powerin' comms, they could have other stuff," she replied hopefully. "Won't hurt to look."

"Sure hope it won't," Mal mumbled, then he raised his voice. "Zoë, you stay here. Looks like we've drawn a bit of a crowd. Be friendly, but make sure no one comes near the ship. Jayne, you're with me and Kaylee."

The locals were friendly and happy to greet foreigners. Book and Wash were out in front of the ship already, busily making new friends. Zoë stayed back a bit, settling on the ramp to play watchdog. Inara, wrapped up in a dark blue hooded cloak, kept Zoë company.

Mal, Jayne, and Kaylee made their way through the small crowd, saying a few polite hellos, then they gained the road and followed it into town.

The place had character and charm enough to make up for the lack of modern comforts. The buildings were made of dark wooden beams edging walls of white plaster, and icicles hung from empty flower boxes beneath nearly every window. Snow-covered evergreens and maples filled the squares, but the streets were clean of snow down to large paving stones that had been carefully placed to allow carts to roll smooth. The people here cared for their town, and it showed.

Word of the visitors spread, and the residents gaped at the three strangers with avid curiosity, commenting unabashedly in a deep guttural language mixed with a scattering of English and Chinese.

The center of town was the area nearest the river junction, where a large open square led to a bridge spanning the main river. Buildings of stone lined the square; most were set up on blocks to keep them above the inevitable spring floods; hinged wooden staircases led up into the shops and eateries.

The rich, warm smell of roasted meat wafted out of one of the largest buildings. It was set on the river side of the square; a sign above the door displayed a mug with a foamy head sitting behind a joint of meat. Jayne peered in the door with an open mouth, and when three laughing young women in fur-lined coats climbed the stairs to go in, Jayne turned to Mal with a pleading expression.

It looked to be the biggest establishment in town and a suitable place to gather the news, so Mal nodded. "Okay," he said. "But – Jayne?"

"What?"

"Behave yourself. I need to do some talkin' and get the lay of the land. If things go smooth then you can have your night of drunken sin. But later – not now, dŏng ma? I need you to stay with Kaylee, look after her."

"But if I stay by Kaylee the gals'll think I got a woman already – "

"S'alright Jayne," Kaylee said as she took his arm. "A taken man just makes a challenge to some womenfolk. You can come back later lookin' for a mistress." She grinned in hopeful anticipation. "And maybe I'll find myself a mister."

Jayne grinned back. "What the guĭ, could be fun." They went arm and arm up the stairs behind Mal.

A half hour later, Mal yanked a half-full pint glass out of Kaylee's hand. He set it on the wooden table heavily enough to splash a little ale toward the pair of strapping young bucks chatting with her. They responded to his interference with some ire, but when he pulled his coat back to show his gun, they made no more fuss.

"Where's Jayne?" Mal asked Kaylee, but she was busy saying goodbye to her boys, her voice slightly slurred. Mal looked around, and spotted the mercenary across the room with the three young ladies they'd seen come in the door.

Mal didn't spare much time for manners as he dragged his two crew members into the chill air outside, but he did at least try to keep his calm. "If you two are done makin' friends," he said, "how bout we get some work done. I got directions to a fellow who plays with machines. Bartender says he could have somethin' for us."

"Tha's fantastic, Cap!" Kaylee said, grinning as she hung onto Jayne's arm.

Mal looked at her closely. "How much did you drink?"

"Not even two!" she said.

"Gorram lightweight," Jayne said, though he seemed a mite unsteady himself. "No worry, Mal. I got a hold on her."

"Noooo, ya don't!" Kaylee said as she spun away from Jayne. He easily caught her by the waist and swung her over his shoulder.

"You drunk too, Jayne?" Mal asked.

"Nahhhh. Only had three pints. M'just in a good mood." He grinned wider and slapped Kaylee's rear end. This got nothing more than a half-hearted yelp in reply.

Mal studied Jayne's bright face with annoyance. "Uh-huh. Some crew I got. Put her down, Jayne, walkin'll help. Kaylee, get your brain back on. We got shoppin' to do."

Kaylee wavered after Jayne set her down, then focused on Mal with a lazy smile. "Brain's always on, Cap. It's called nashural talent."

Mal turned away with a huff and lead the tipsy pair toward the wide stone bridge, and they crossed over to the hillier side of town.

"Guess what I heard, Mal," Jayne said eagerly.

"A gunhand who gets drunk on the job forfeits his cut?"

Jayne paused in confusion. "Huh? No, that ain't it – listen: they ain't got no bears this side of the world – folks round here'll pay lots for that skin." Jayne threw his shoulders back proudly. "I got myself purchasin' power."

"Buddha help us," Mal said under his breath.

"Just wish I'd a' saved the balls, bet there's big money for them."

Mal threw a disgusted glance at Jayne. Kaylee was skipping over the cobblestones, avoiding the cracks, and didn't hear.

As they reached the center the bridge, Jayne looked back to study the shops in the main square. "Ya think they got a cat house in town?" he asked.

Kaylee heard that. "O-ooh!" she cooed. "Just what Serenity needs – a kitten! Gotta get two, Jayne, so the one don't get lonely."

Jayne only heard what he wanted. "Two instead a'one?" His eyes lit up.

"He ain't talkin' about felines, Kaylee," Mal said.

"A black one and a' orange one," she continued. "I'll hafta rig a way into my bunk so as they can climb down n' nap with me."

Jayne's were glazed over. "Two, huh! Ain't done that in a while…"

Mal gave up and let them both rattle on as they saw fit.

The house was a ten minute walk up a broad snow-covered lane that wound through the trees. Mal was keeping a lookout for the landmark the bartender had told him about: a large bunch of rocks with a number painted on it. But, even in her state, Kaylee managed to recognize their destination first. A large green tarp was tied between the trees in front of a dark brown wooden house; under the tarp was an impressive collection of machines and parts. Kaylee plunged through the snow to get to the pile, then wound through the junk like it was a candy store.

"Don't hurt yourself!" Mal called, eyeing the many rusty edges and sharp pieces of metal sticking up out of the heap.

"But Cap – looky here…" Kaylee started, but then she froze, staring toward the far side of the pile. "O-ooooh…" she made another sound like the one she'd made over the idea of kittens, but this coo was longer and more heartfelt. She backed off the pile and jogged around to the back of it.

Mal noticed a bearded man coming out of the front door of the house, watching Kaylee with obvious amusement.

"Something I can help you folk with?" the man asked.

"As a matter of fact, there is," Mal replied, walking toward the house with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand. "Name's Malcolm Reynolds."

"Hans Grün." The reply came with a friendly nod and handshake.

"If you'll give me just one second," Mal said pleasantly, holding up a finger, then he went to Kaylee and pulled her away from the large machine she was fondling. It was a beastly metallic frame with four seats mounted under a steel canopy roof. Mal thought it didn't look to be in bad shape, other than not having any wheels.

"Kaylee. Grav drive, remember?"

"But Cap…." She pointed back toward the transport. "Xiù lì!"

"Greasy spots, Kaylee. We'll all be greasy spots."

Kaylee whined one more time, but obediently let Mal lead her to Hans.

"I gotta apologize," Mal said, "Kaylee here's not normally so…" He paused at the sound off to his side, then sighed when he recognized it. Slowly they all looked over to see Jayne, back to them, stance visibly unsteady as he whizzed on a tree.

Kaylee broke down in giggles while Mal tried to think of something to say to Hans. Nothing came out but, "Uhhh…"

"I will guess you stopped at the Pint and Joint?" Hans asked, scratching his chin.

"That we did."

"Scotch ale?"

Kaylee leaned against Mal as she replied happily, "Mmmm, scotch ale."

"Yes, mädchen, sehr gut ale, but one pint equals three pints of other ale for making drunk, ja?"

"Nice goin', Jayne," Mal said with a sidelong glare at the mercenary.

Jayne was still busy yellowing the snow, but he looked over his shoulder. "What'd I do?"

"Maybe you come in for tea before we make business?" Hans offered.

"Much obliged," Mal said. He glanced at Jayne. "I'm guessin' he'll just join us when he's done, if, uh, he ever is."

Mal had a fruitful conversation with Hans while he waited for his mechanic to sober up. It took a few sips of tea, one sudden and hurried trip to the outhouse with a hand over her mouth, then a good deal more tea and some hearty bread and cheese before she more or less came around. She went out to the front yard and picked through the pile, only throwing a few covetous glances at the big machine behind it. When she came back in, Mal was looking somewhat hopeful. Jayne, on the other hand, was sitting in a corner holding his head.

"Sorry, Cap'n," Kaylee said sheepishly. "Didn't see nothin' that'd help." She didn't ask about the thing she really wanted, and Mal didn't have the heart to tell her that he'd already asked the price. It was more than he could pay.

Out of appreciation for the man's news, as well as his patience and help with the sobering up process, Mal left a few coins with Hans and they went on their way.

It was late afternoon and already getting dark when Mal, Jayne, and Kaylee returned to Serenity. Mal sent Kaylee to her bunk to nap off her headache, then turned to Jayne. The mercenary was intent on bundling up his bear fur, which had been hanging on display in the cargo bay. But Jayne couldn't move fast enough to escape a scolding.

"You can't be doin' crap like that, not out here," Mal told him. "We don't know these worlds or these people."

Jayne didn't reply, and he kept his back turned, so Mal continued.

"When I tell you to do somethin', I need to know you can do it, specially when it's watchin' over Kaylee."

Jayne grumbled something under his breath, which didn't please Mal at all.

"Gorramit, Jayne, you look at me if you got somethin' to say." Mal grabbed Jayne's arm to pull him up and look him in the eye.

"Kaylee's just fine," Jayne said defensively. "I was watchin' her."

Mal grabbed the front of Jayne's shirt. "Only thing you were watchin' was the local tail." Jayne exhaled with a humph and tried to pull free, but Mal's grip on his shirt tightened. "You need to stop thinkin' with your John Thomas. Kaylee trusts people. What if those fellas you left her with had smooth-talked her out the door? Would she be just fine then?"

"She was just talkin', Mal. She ain't stupid."

Mal held on for a few more seconds before he realized that he'd gone too far. He pushed Jayne back and turned away, clenching his hands in an attempt to control his anger.

Jayne threw his bundled fur over his shoulder. "You done?" he asked.

Mal didn't answer, and Jayne started toward the ramp. "I got business to take care of," he mumbled.

Mal looked after him. "If you end up in a drunk tank tonight, you'll be stayin' there for good. We're leavin' as soon as we get loaded up."

"We got cargo?" Jayne turned to ask, but Mal was stalking away.

Mal knew where his anger had come from, and he had to stop on the stairs behind the infirmary to swallow it down. Near a month it'd been since they'd left Oeneus; most of that time he'd been all right, even feeling pretty good. He'd managed to stay out of trouble and avoid the Alliance. What's more, his crew was still with him, though there wasn't much good to be seen on the road ahead. That was a blessing which, truthfully, he wasn't sure he deserved. But he had to admit it was a comfort.

What had happened in the village had blindsided him. Kaylee talking with a few flirty locals was completely innocuous, and he knew it. But no happy pill in the verse would make him forget the things he'd seen while getting the brain fry on Oeneus. The memory of Kaylee in the arms of a violent thug, and then under the knife of Alliance torturers, was burned into him. He could tell himself again and again that it hadn't been real, but that didn't quench the fear that it could happen. Any time he let his guard down, it could happen.

Mal pressed his hands to the bulkhead, remembering how physical contact with his ship had helped steady him when he hadn't been able to trust his other senses. He could always trust his ship. If she ever hurt him, it was because he had let her down first. Like when he hadn't fixed that compression coil. And now it was the grav drive.

He dropped his hands and continued up the stairs. There'd be time to worry over Kaylee and Jayne – and Inara – later; he had to fix his ship now. And that meant money, and that meant a job. Thankfully, good fortune hadn't completely abandoned him yet.

He found Zoë in the dining room with Wash, Inara, and Book.

"We got us a job," Mal announced.

"Here?" Zoë asked, perplexed.

"Apparently there's a world close by that's hurtin' bad for basic foodstuffs, which they got plenty of right here. There just ain't many transport ships out this way."

"If it's fish I'm getting off now," Wash said.

"You and me both," Mal replied. "It ain't fish, just grains and such." Mal glanced at Book and Inara. "Any of y'all ever been to Niflheim?"

"Gesundheit," Wash said proudly.

Zoë patted her husband's hand with a condescending smile. "Very funny, sweetie," she whispered.

Inara shook her head at Mal. "I've heard of it, but it's so far from the Core that no one from the Guild has even screened clients there."

"Book?" Mal asked.

"As it happens, I did spend some time on Niflheim once," Book said.

"Uh-huh." Mal wasn't surprised, Book often proved a fount of knowledge. Mal folded his arms and sat back. "And?"

"It was about six years back, just after the war. The terraforming process had begun to fail, and we helped our brethren move to a different world."

"The terraforming failed?" Wash asked. "I thought that didn't happen anymore."

"It didn't completely fail," Book said. "The world is still habitable, but nothing much grows on it."

"People still livin' there?" Mal asked.

"There are several wealthy Cartels that won't be leaving anytime soon." This drew questioning looks all around. "It's the planetary rings," he explained. "They're full of certain valuable minerals, floating around in small easy-to-get-to chunks. There are several mining Cartels making their fortune there. And as long as there are rich folk …"

"… there'll be poor folk to do the dirty work," Mal finished, "no matter how hard it is to keep em fed. That jives with what Hans was tellin' me."

"Hans?" Zoë asked.

"Fella I met in town. Used to do trade with Niflheim up till a few years back, when the ships stopped comin'. He said that if we load up on foodstuffs here we'll be able to unload em over there for a big take."

"You mean to profit off of starving people?" Inara asked.

"I mean to do the only job I got in front of me," Mal said without looking at her.

"But… I'm sure there's some way to go about it without taking advantage of these people."

Mal was in no mood to argue morality. He looked up at her. "We'll sell our goods at the going rate," he replied tersely. "You should know all about that."

Inara blinked like she'd just been slapped, and Mal looked away quickly.

"They got Alliance?" he asked Book.

The Shepherd glanced between Mal and Inara before he replied. "Not when I was there; it's too far from the Core for permanent occupation. The Alliance pays the Cartels to deliver the raw materials needed to build and maintain their empire. The government gets a good price, but doesn't need to worry over local security or domestic issues. It's a good arrangement for them."

"Sounds like a good deal for us, too," Mal said. "If they got mining operations, they got machinery, and that means tech shops. If we can just get there without blowin' the grav drive, we ought'a be able to get Serenity fixed up, then sell the goods and be on our way."

"Hmm, and wring those starving people dry," Inara said with a plastic smile. "Have fun with that." She stood up to leave.

"Always do," Mal called after her. "Got a special talent for sellin' to the poor."

Inara didn't reply, didn't even turn back to him as she swept out of the room.

Zoë fixed a steady stare on Mal. "What a wonderful mood you're in, sir."

Mal glanced at her but ignored the comment. "Hans told me where we can pick up some cargo. Let's go."

Buying grain direct from farmers with plenty to sell was an easy transaction, and Mal and Zoë spent damn near every cent they had left. The goods were set to be delivered that night.

On the way back, they ran into Jayne. He had his back braced against the back end of a cart, his feet slipping on the slick paving stones as he tried to help two miserable donkeys move a load that was far too heavy for them. Kaylee's giant piece of machinery was balanced on the cart, and Hans walked alongside looking extremely cheerful.

"Cap'n, Zoë, good," Jayne called out as he took a break to catch his breath. "I could use some help. Gorram thing's heavy!"

"Did I tell you to buy that?" Mal asked.

"Well, no," Jayne replied, on the defensive. "But ya asked the price of it. I figured you must've been interested."

"Actually, Kaylee was the interested party," Mal said, and saw how Jayne looked away like he was embarrassed. It occurred to Mal, a little late, that Jayne had likely used up all of his precious purchasing power on something useful to the whole crew, and something that Kaylee wanted. The realization finally served to douse his bad mood. He stepped up to the machine and gave it a long look over.

"Jayne, if Kaylee can get it runnin', it'll sure be a good thing to have."

Jayne nodded, his shoulders relaxing, but his voice was still petulant. "You gonna give me some help then?"

Mal nodded. "Yeah, we'll get it home."

The three of them shouldered up to the cart and got it rolling along the slippery cobblestones. It took some doing, but they finally maneuvered the monstrosity onto the ship and settled it in a back corner of the cargo bay. Hans took his tired donkeys and departed with many happy words regarding his new bear rug.

Mal was just closing the door to keep the cold out when Kaylee's shriek sounded from above. She chattered ecstatically as she clattered down the stairs.

"Oh my… wow! All she needs is a little wirin' work... gotta check the shaft, kind'a old, may need to rebuild… got some parts somewhere… clean up the anti-grav thrusters, they's a little rusted. Oh Cap!... A new fuel line. Maybe I can piece one together… put some harnesses on, baby's gonna corner tight… gonna be jiàn měi chē, kuài too! …gotta get some paint, gotta be yellow… bright shiny yellow… happy Buddha!… fix the hitchin' hook, put on some wind screens… roof's gotta go, no need for a roof…"

Wash soon joined Kaylee in her animated admiration of their new toy. Mal let them go on for a bit before he interrupted. "Okay, Christmas is over. Kaylee. Hey - Kaylee!"

"Wha'?" She looked up from where she was sprawled on the deck at the front end of the hovercraft, hands already worked deep into its complicated innards.

"You take care of Serenity's grav drive before you even look at this again, dŏng ma? Greasy spots don't go for rides in even the shiniest of hovercrafts."

"Oh, Cap!" Kaylee jumped up and, before he could stop her, she hugged him tight.

"That is nice of you, Kaylee, but I didn't buy it. That's Santa over there." Mal nodded to Jayne, who was lifting two large ceramic growlers out of the back of the hovercraft. He saw Mal pointing at him and lifted his lip in a confused sneer.

Kaylee gaped for a second, then she ran to the mercenary to say thank you as only Kaylee could.

Jayne stood still, his arms weighted by the bottles he was holding and his head pulled back uncomfortably, and Kaylee hung from his neck with her feet kicked up behind her.

"Well, hell," Jayne said uncomfortably. "If I go out whorin' Mal'll leave me here."

"Don't you deny it, Jayne. You did somethin' nice!" Kaylee told him, and she kissed him on the cheek before she dropped back to the deck.

"I had enough left over to get these." Jayne held up the two growlers like they were evidence of his true nature.

"Scotch ale?" Mal asked in a worried tone.

"Uh-huh. And I ain't sharin' a drop of it."

"You don't fool me, Jayne Cobb," Kaylee said, still looking at him with a proud smile. "You're gettin' to be a real gentleman."

"No, I ain't," Jayne said in disgust, and turned away to take his beer to his bunk. He muttered on his way out. "Gorram, already wish I hadn't bought the thing."

"All right, the rest a'you folks!" Mal broke off the debate over Jayne's character. "Let's clear some space in here. We got goods comin' in a few, then we're movin' on."

.*. .*. .*.

Simon sat with an unusual slouch; he was tired. It had been a chore to keep River in check that day. She'd been so calm the past month that her sudden mood swings had caught him by surprise. When she'd finally settled down on the catwalk over the cargo bay doors, laying on her stomach and watching the crew come and go below her, he'd stayed beside her, thankful for the rest.

She didn't stir during all the hubbub of the hovercraft's arrival, so Simon didn't either. He smiled fondly as he watched Kaylee patter down the stairs on the far side of the bay, babbling about the hovercraft. His smile broadened when she give her thanks to the captain, who'd also been increasingly moody lately and could use the kindness.

But when she flung herself onto Jayne, Simon felt a rush of irritation that he didn't understand.

"It's inevitable," River said softly. She was watching, too.

"What's that?" Simon asked, still distracted by his own thoughts.

"Have to make a move, or the chance goes away."

Simon glanced down at Kaylee again. "Chance?"

"Chance to be happy." She rolled onto her back to look at him; her eyes were sad. "People like being here because they know what they want. Don't need to go looking." She closed her eyes. "Feels good."

Simon used to do what he could to distract her when she was in this mood, but lately he had been taking a different approach. The events on Oeneus had shown him that her ramblings contained more insight than he had previously imagined, so he'd been trying to find the meaning behind the things she said. Even when he couldn't understand her, it seemed to make her feel better that he tried.

Today, she was going in several directions at once, and he had a hard time keeping up.

"People don't go looking?" he asked. "Which people?"

"Ones who live here."

"You mean the crew?"

"No," she sounded impatient now. "The ones outside. Know what they want. Don't need to go flying everywhere. Have a place and all they need."

"Like the raspberry bushes," Simon said softly.

"Know who they are. Wish I knew, so I could be happy too."

"You'll be happy. I'll make you happy again, I promise."

She shook her head. "Not till I know." She sat up and looked down into the bay, where Mal, Zoë, and Wash were piling a few empty canisters to the side and Kaylee was still inspecting the hovercraft. River watched Kaylee for a few seconds before she turned to Simon. "Need to know what you want, or you'll never have it," she told him. "It'll go somewhere else and you'll drift. Forever. Alone."

He thought about what she was saying, then he nodded. "I think I understand, mèi mei." He smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead before he pulled her to him for a hug.

.*. .*. .*.

Later that night, Kaylee sighed impatiently and shifted inside a folded up mattress. Mal had helped her wedge it into the engine room, building a cushioned nest right next to the open panel under her hammock. Her eyes were on the small system that was causing them such trouble, but her mind was down in the cargo bay, imagining repairs to the battered hovercraft. It was now surrounded so tightly by bins of dried grain that if Mal ever allowed her to work on it, she'd barely have room to maneuver.

Mal's voice came through the comm. "All set, Kaylee?"

"A-OK, Cap'n," she replied, and her attention focused on the grav subsystem that began to spin as Wash powered up the ship.

She'd do what she could to make sure the weakened axle kept spinning. If it broke, it wouldn't affect the ship's maneuverability, but the artificial grav that kept everyone and everything inside the ship sticking to the floor would go out. Not a big deal if the engines weren't firing. Actually, she thought with a wistful sigh, zero G could present opportunities for a certain kind of fun, if only the doctor would kindly take part. A dreamy smile spread across Kaylee's face as her mind wandered.

She felt a slight bump in the ship's motion when Serenity distanced herself from the planet enough for the artificial grav to kick in. Kaylee wrenched her mind back to the open panel in front of her. It was no time for daydreams, no matter how lovely they might be.

.*. .*. .*.

Wash and Mal were buckled tight to the seats on the bridge. It wasn't as safe as being rolled up in a mattress, like the rest of the crew was, but someone had to do the flying. There had been some argument about whether two people were needed, but in the end Mal had pulled rank and insisted on staying on the bridge, where he was annoying the hell out of Wash.

"Easy, easy," Mal said, holding a placating hand out toward the pilot.

"I am easy!" Wash countered. "Easy as Jayne on scotch ale. Would you relax?"

"We can't be going past ten Gs now," Mal reminded the pilot. "Just in case – "

"Really? Ten Gs? I thought it was ten Gs, like you told me five seconds ago. Or ten Gs like you said fifteen seconds ago. Or…"

"Pay attention!" Mal said. "You gotta keep her lined up – "

"Captain. Sir. If the grav fails while you're speaking, you could tragically bite your tongue off."

Mal opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut and glared at Wash instead. He settled on watching the ship's course on the co-pilot's console and tapping his foot impatiently if it strayed at all.

The ship cleared atmo and Wash plotted the course to Niflheim, carefully setting the acceleration curve to stay within non-grease spot forming limits. When he finished he switched on the comm. "Fair passengers and crew," he said in a gentle voice, "it will be safe to get up and move about the ship in approximately… four hours. In the meantime, please enjoy your journey with slower than hell enterprises."

Wash switched off the comm and settled back in his seat. There was nothing to do now but watch the controls and wait until the engine finished firing.

"Mal, it really would be safer if you went to your bunk," Wash said.

"We've been over this, Wash. She's my boat, I'm stayin' here to keep an eye on her."

Wash shrugged. "Sure." He made himself more comfortable in his seat, then glanced at Mal. "Guess this gives us a chance to chat," he suggested.

"Yeah. We should… catch up," Mal replied with a nod.

"Absolutely."

Mal cleared his throat, then shifted in his chair.

Wash idly flipped a switch that appeared to do absolutely nothing.

Mal adjusted the harness holding him to his seat.

Wash picked up a blue plastic dinosaur.

Mal noticed. He nodded at the toy in Wash's hand. "So that one there is a… um…"

"Stegosaurus," Wash filled in.

"Right."

"Usually," Wash explained, "a stegosaurus only eats plants, but this one here is different. This is Seeber. Seeber switched brains with Queen T. Rex," Wash held up a second dinosaur, a vicious-looking orange beast. "That was when the herbivores were experimenting with hallucinogens during a freak lightning storm. So, then Seeber started chewing on the triceratops." Wash's snort clearly said can-you-believe-that-crap? "And of course the herbies had to lock him up. And Seeber's brain in the Queen's body didn't work out so well either, because… the… uh…

"Captain? Where are you going?"

.*. .*. .*.

Translations
dŏng ma: understand?
guĭ: hell
xiù lì: pretty
jiàn měi chē: beautiful, strong vehicle
kuài: fast; quick; swift
mèi mei: little sister