A/N: I suck for doing this a week after the fact, but I had to edit, edit, edit. The meat of the story is the same, but I wasn't happy with the format. I usually post in 1k - 3k word chapters and I must have been smoking crack when I decided to lay this all out there in this single huge chapter format. (Also I suck for the lack of a/n's...)
So... Chapter One and so on...
p.s. btw, there is much more still to come!
p.p.s. thanks for the reviews (those of you that have, and those of you that will)

~Y

"River, girl? You passed out on me for a second there, little one." Mal looked concerned, while trying not to look too concerned. It had an odd effect on his features, though the corners of his mouth pulled up into a tight smile. "Where'd you go, darlin'?"

She pushed herself up on her elbows. There was a buzzing in her ears and a slight burning at the base of her head. She reached her hand behind her and brought it around to see the wet smear of blood on her fingertips.

"Shàngdì gāisǐ!"

"What happened?" River croaked weakly as she shrugged off Mal's profanity.

"You were comin' down the steps to the 'bay an your eyes got all glazed over and then rolled back. Your feet stopped a second after your brain, looked like, and you took a tumble. Sit still and I'll holler for your brother." He reached into his pocket for the com when River stood suddenly.

"It doesn't need stitches, Ma-al," she said quickly before slumping back to the floor with her hands on her temples. "Stood up too fast."

"Uh-huh. You sure I ain't gotta call Simon," Mal asked skeptically. She shot him a look that said very plainly, 'you don't want to'. "I guess he's sleepin' this hour the night."

"Not sleeping. Fuc-"

"Bì shàng nǐ de zuǐ!" He was taken aback by her crassness, but only for a moment. "Com'on. You may not be needin' stitches, but a cold pack couldn't hurt." Mal pulled her to her feet and steadied her as they headed for the galley. "Sit. And... and stay."

"Not a dog," she mumbled as he steered her toward one of the galley chairs.

"No, but I shudder to think how many ways that brother a' yours could come up with killin me if his mei mei were to die of a concussion on my watch. Then with me dead, Jayne'd think he's in charge and Zo'd hafta kill him and there'd be a whole lotta unnecessary bloodshed on account a you sneaking off and fallin' asleep. So it looks like we'll be each other's company tonight." He handed her a cryo-gel pack wrapped in a dishcloth and winced as he lifted the hair at the nape of her neck to examine the injury. "Ouch."

"Put mildly."

"So what happened out there, albatross? Why weren't you cozy in your bunk?" He let her place the pack to her own head and took a seat across the corner of the table from her.

"Somnambulism."

"Wha-huh?"

"Also called noctambulism or sleepwalking. It is one of the most striking arousal disorders, mostly because it scares people living with the somnambulant. Like many parasomnias, the causes of somnambulism are a mystery. It is believed to be aggravated by stress, fatigue, sleep deprivation and some medications-"

"Whoa, there. That's a bunch of doctor-y type speak that means not a whole lot to an old captain. But I seen men sleepwalking before."

River plucked the memory out of his mind near effortlessly. "Those men had post traumatic stress after the war. Simon says I do."

"Forget wars, little one. What are we gonna do to keep you up all night?" Mal shifted in his seat uncomfortably. PTSD was something he was all too familiar with.

"Tell me a story."

That had him off guard. It wasn't much something he'd ever thought to do, past his own aspirations. Even those were sometimes limited to making enough coin to keep the boat goin' and not starve to death.

"About earth-that-was."

"Don't know a whole lot 'bout that place. 'Sides, what if you get bored and pass out on me again?"

"I'll help you. We can take turns telling it together. Your inaccuracies should keep my mind occupied enough to stave off danger." Her eyes twinkled then and he had a hard time shaking the feeling that she had known exactly how insulting that sounded.

"Don't you go teasin' me, girl. I've a mind to go get your brother, let him keep an eye on you." Mal was only half serious, though the thought of staying up through the night cycle with the girl – even though she was his lil' albatross – was a bit unsettling. But the look that slid across River's features at his threat cemented his decision to stay with her. He could see it on her face the moment he'd decided that she'd been reading him, and his mouth turned down into a frown.

"You think loudly. Like yelling."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

He shook his head at how quick and dry she'd answered him. "Still the dilemma of what to be doin'. I ain't a storyteller and, uh, well, but if you wanted to… we could check the cortex. See an old flick or something." He'd been planning on walking the ship when he saw River floating up along the catwalk before her fall. He'd run, but hadn't been there fast enough to catch her. He hated that feeling – seeing the outcome of a situation and knowing there was nothing he could do to change it, only wait for the fallout. He suddenly felt a twinge of kindred with the slip of a girl sitting caddy corner to him.

"I'll walk with you," she said, following his line of thought.

"Not on the catwalks. You been temptin' luck too much for one night. But… we'll run a check on all the other necessaries. You can tell me what you know 'bout earth-that-was. Teach an old man something."

Four hours later, they sat in the pilot and co-pilot's chairs respectively, each holding onto a cup of dark coffee. River kept rattling on and Mal's head had started spinning from the speed at which she was taking him through earth-that-was history. So when she reached the story of King Henry the VIII he'd suggested she focus on that one for a while and they'd drink some coffee.

"So, it really is a common misconception that all six of his wives were beheaded. He outlived four, and only killed two of those. The rest were either annulled marriages or the women died due to the medical ignorance of the time."

"When you said 'the six wives of King Henry the VIII' I thought I'd be hearing 'bout palaces and fancy balls and the like." Among other things.

"Oh, trust me, there was plenty of sex going on."

Mal shook his head at her response, and stared down into the black liquid in his cup. Soon they heard the rest of the ship rouse – Kaylee heading to the engine room even before the shower room, Jayne stumbling tiredly into the kitchen to help himself to the fresh coffee, and the general noises of the other three crew members moving about the ship. "That's it for me, little one. I'm good for nothing without a few hours rest. Let Zoe take the stick if you need to get some sleep yourself. Think it oughta be safe by now."

"You won't tell Simon." It wasn't a question.

He stood without another word and made his way off of the bridge, depositing his coffee cup in the galley.

"I ain't cleanin' that," Jayne said as Mal passed him. He only waved his hand in response and continued on to his bunk.

River crawled into her bed nearly an hour later and let the daytime hum of the ship and the crew lull her into a relatively peaceful sleep. Mal slept only a few hours that morning before the wave came in from Perth.

"This' Captain Reynolds. Who do I owe the pleasure?"

A younger man of tall, but slight stature slouched to fit into the cortex frame. "Captain, you don't know me."

"That a fact?" Mal asked shortly. He had just woken and was in no mood to drag a conversation on longer than it had call for.

"My name is Richard Allan. Rick. We seem to have a few mutual acquaintances." He talked smooth enough to make Mal question just which acquaintances he was referring to. "Warwick Harrow being one."

"That's a name I ain't heard in a minute."

Forty minutes later Mal gathered the crew in the galley. He'd have liked to have River there as well but there was nothing for it. She needed to rest after yesterday's spill. No one really seemed overly concerned by her absence anyhow. "Got a wave from Perth just a bit ago. They got proper work for us in the Dyton area, then transporting cargo back up to them on Perth."

"Dyton? This got anything to do with Badger, Sir?"

"No, it don't."

"Don't matter long as it pays right enough," Jayne interjected as though his opinion was called for.

"Like I said, it's proper work, and that means proper pay. Cargo's a mite more sensitive than usual, and we gotta keep things real quiet."

"What's the cargo, Sir?" Zoe took a half step forward anxiously.

"People could get hurt if we tā mā de zhège zhùcè. Now I ain't volunteering anybody for work like that, so now's your time to choose."

"Cap'n, we can't choose till ya tell us what we're choosin'," Kaylee piped up for the first time since they had congregated. Simon stood behind her with his hand resting comfortably on her waist, but remained silent until he knew what he would be casting his vote for or against.

"This Rick Allan, he's got a sister. She's been taken and traded to pay a debt. Best he can figure, she's off on Dyton. He's got an address and he's got information. First stop's over to Perth to get the plan laid out." Mal noticed Simon tense and stand straighter at the mention of a kidnapped sister. "Human traffic never sat well with me and I know it ain't yóutài with any of you neither. But give me the say so and you can be sittin' this one out at Perth. Won't think less of you for it. Just let me know 'for long so I can plan according." He turned then, and headed for the bridge to plot a course for Perth.

A/N (update)

Here are the rough Mandarin to English translations for this chapter. You will find the translations for the following chapters at the bottom of each page. Sorry for the time it took me to geth them out to you. Hope this makes the story more enjoyable/easier to read.

Shàngdì gāisǐ – goddamnit

Bì shàng nǐ de zuǐ – shut your foul mouth

tā mā de zhège zhùcè – fuck this up

yóutài – kosher