Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'. Just usin' 'em while ole Mr. Whedon is away. Ditto for the Ranma cast. Any other character is fair game, though…
"" = speech
'' = thought
:: = telepathic communication
Chapter 1: Everyone's a Comedian, or It's All Fun and Games 'til Someone Gets Shot
"When you feel everything, you can't lie to yourself. That is a very scary feeling."
Simon Tam, Ship's Surgeon, Firefly-class transport Serenity
"There is no possible or impossible. If you steer the lesser probabilities along the path to becoming greater probabilities, you can do what everyone says should not be possible."
River Tam, Pilot, Firefly-class transport Serenity
Mal looked on as Jayne stacked the three small, iron-bound wooden crates on the back of the mule trailer, and strapped them down securely. He didn't know what was in them, but they were heavy, and Badger was paying a pretty penny for them, so they had to be valuable. Of course, they'd had to salvage them from a derelict ship on the edge of the system, but it hadn't taken them too long, and Kaylee had even scrounged a few good parts for Serenity in the process.
He'd had to resist temptation a few times to avoid opening the crates, but Badger had been insistent. If they were still there, they were to be brought to him unopened, or he wouldn't be paying them, and although times were better than a few months ago, they couldn't afford to blow this job, or any other. So, he restrained himself, and did the same for Jayne, lest the money from this job go up in smoke. Still, he did wonder….
Mal knew that his burning desire to know what was in the boxes was, in part, due to his desire to avoid thinking about the woman in his No. 1 passenger cabin. The woman who, even now, was being tended by Simon and Kaylee, and would probably be asking for help as soon as he returned. But the simple act of trying not to think about her did nothing but bring her to the forefront of his mind, and he found himself remembering their wedding… at least the pieces he could. But that only served to remind him of his shame, and almost against his will, he found himself reliving those joyous days, and that one dreadful moment…..
It had started as something of a joke to almost everyone involved, but grew on it's own from there with startling speed. After Miranda, when they'd finally had time to see Wash and Shepherd Book decently buried, along with the rest of the inhabitants of Haven caught there by the Operative's cruel orders and an Alliance gunboat, Zoë had insisted on throwing a party. She said, "Wash always wanted to have the best funeral party in the 'verse. He's been planning it since he was in Flight Academy, and I've been saving a case of that Osiris GoldenFire whiskey for a special occasion. I can't think of any better cause, nor a bunch more deserving of a good, stiff drink. I think he'd like that."
As she'd trailed off, and her eyes focused, just for a second, on a person who was no longer there, he'd felt like his heart was breaking, too. So he did the only thing he could. "Y'know, I believe that is a fine idea. Come to think of it, I might have a little something squirreled away, too. We'll even get the shepherd what's doin' the funerals tipsy. Maybehaps he'll have somethin' interesting to say then."
After the funeral, everyone had need of a little relief from the depression, and they actually smiled when they got back on board to find that, somehow, Kaylee had gotten the mess decorated, laid out a selection of finger foods, tapped a small keg of beer for Jayne, opened a bottle of wine, and had whiskey and glasses in close proximity to a small tub of ice, in case the shepherd was inclined to take his on the rocks, all in time to attend the funeral herself and telling no one, not even Simon, so that they could have a pleasant surprise, after all the gloom and horror they'd witnessed.
The party had been a great success. Zoë, Mal, and Inara sat at the table drinking shots of GoldenFire whiskey and sharing stories about Wash and Shepherd Book. Simon, after taking a shot, said he'd stick with the wine, and he and Kaylee left early, furtively peeking about to see if they'd been noticed. They had been, which occasioned some bawdy jokes from an inebriated Zoë and Mal, and one from Inara that was downright lewd, and which had them laughing uncontrollably for several minutes. The main surprise had been Shepherd Paul, who was over in the corner with Jayne, drunkenly arguing the pros and cons of various heavy rifles, pistols, and grenades. Jayne was enjoying himself greatly, and even took a few notes. That caused even River to goggle a bit, but after the few glasses of wine she'd had, she didn't think about it too long, deciding instead to go to bed and tease him in the morning. The only thing Mal remembered after that was looking at a smiling Shepherd, and kissing Inara.
The next afternoon, Mal awoke slowly. The severe pounding in his head drowned out all thought, and he knew that if he opened his eyes, it would only result in pain. So, he just lay there, hoping to either die or that his hangover would miraculously disappear. Thus, it was several minutes before he mustered the force of will to overpower the pounding in his head to take stock. 'Feet….. check. Legs…… rubbery, but check.
Stomach….. Let's skip that for now. Chest….. warm. Arms….. one asleep, the other cold. Head….. ow.'
Mental inventory done, he reluctantly decided he might live. It was several moments before his brain detected the differences in his usual sleeping arrangements and…. This. Whatever this was. 'The bed's too soft. The sheet's are WAY too soft. Is that…. Vanilla? With a growing sense of unease, his brain could only conclude that this was not his bed, and now that he was more aware, he knew that his chest was warm because of the head resting there, and his arm was asleep because someone was laying on top of it. 'Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! Merciful Buddha , tell me that I didn't sleep with Zoë! Please!'
For a handful of seconds, he considered trying to leave without opening his eyes, but considering his sense of balance, and the fact that he might need to see to dodge gunfire, he reluctantly decided he needed to see to at least beg for his life properly. That decision made, he cracked his right eye open to see…. A shuttle roof? 'Yes! I didn't sleep with Zoë! I didn't sleep with Zoë!' was his first exultant thought, followed quite quickly by 'Shuttle roof? Oh, shit…. Did I sleep with Inara?' With that thought now in the forefront of his brain, he opened his left eye as well, and looked at the figure laying on his chest… only to be captured by Inara's smoldering gaze. "Good morning, husband."
Mal panicked, and rushed from her shuttle in a flurry of clothes and a cloud of Mandarin profanity, Inara hot on his heels, laughing so hard she could hardly stumble after him. When Mal calmed down enough to listen, she explained to him that it was only a joke, concocted by her and Zoë, and abetted by the shepherd when he realized how drunk they all were. Since they hadn't known how much Mal would remember when he awoke, or even how long he would stay standing, they decided to do the abridged Companion marriage ceremony, of which he eventually remembered some, but not all of, and, sure enough, Mal passed out five minutes into it. So they shook him awake, stood him back up and Inara kissed him. Then Zoë and Jayne dragged Mal to Inara's bed, where he collapsed unconscious immediately. Inara took a few alcodote's, and joined him in slumber in short order. Thus, when Mal started to stir, she awoke, and waited for the inevitable.
They teased him unmercifully the entire trip to Sihnon, at which point the trip became decidedly unfunny rather quickly. It seems that while Zoë and Inara were trying to get Mal up from the table, Jayne convinced the shepherd to make it 'real and official-like' by parting with one of his beloved firearms and some spare ammo. Thus, when the wedding certificate hit the Cortex three days later, it hit the Companions Guild like a firebomb, strewing gossip and speculation among the novices, and angry outcries among the House Mistresses. An investigation was launched, and when it was discovered that she had not only not informed the guild of her impending nuptials, she had not disclosed a relationship of any sort at her yearly Guild checkup only a month previous, cries of outrage were heard in open Council. Indeed, when questioned, the Guild doctor who had overseen her physical testified that she had denied such a relationship rather….. vehemently. Quite loudly, in fact.
After a great deal of debate, sometimes quite heated, and a multitude of witnesses testifying on everything from Inara Serra's wardrobe choice to her correspondence with some of the active Companions of House Madrassa, the Guildmistress said, "It is agreed then? All right, let's put it to the vote. All those in favor of Decree number 11796-44, say 'Aye'. Let all those opposed say 'Nay'." There was but a single vote of dissent. "Very well. Decree number 11796-44 of the Companion's Guild has passed by a margin of 37-1. This fifth monthly meeting of the Companion's Guild is hereby adjourned. I bid you all good evening, and I shall see most of you at next month's meeting."
Turning, she walked calmly out of a room now abuzz with conversation, and her pace was unhurried as she walked slowly out of the Guildhall and into her waiting hoverlimo. She was quite proud that she was able to keep all traces of her overwhelming sense of glee and satisfaction from her face and bearing until she was alone in her penthouse apartment.
There was a Guild messenger waiting at the Dock for them. He waited only for the engines to spool down before dashing across the apron and rapping smartly on the cargo bay door. And rapped again. And again. Finally, getting impatient, he kicked the door, and yelped as his big toe broke. Dropping onto his rear in his fine clothes, the messenger looked shocked for a second or two, and then let loose a slew of profanity fit to make a hardened spacer blush and stutter.
As Jayne was checking the cargo bay after touchdown, he heard a knock on the cargo bay door. Deciding he didn't care to see who it was just yet, he checked to make sure his weight bench hadn't overturned, and was unsurprised to find it still upright. 'Gorram moonbrain almost flies good as Wash did.', Jayne thought with a touch of wistful envy. He'd always wanted to learn to fly, just never got around to learning.
As he heard a louder thump, followed by a burst of profanity, he decided he'd pass the buck on to the Captain. Walking over and thumbing the intercom, he said, "Hey, Mal! We got a visitor, and he sounds right unhappy. What you want I should do?"
There was a long pause, and Mal's voice came back over the intercom. "Is he pointin' a gun at you?" "Well, no, but he's swearin' up a storm outside the cargo bay."
Jayne replied with a smirk, knowing from the readout that the reply had come from Inara's shuttle, instead of Mal's cabin. "Then see what the hell he wants! I'm busy!" came the indignant reply. Grinning, Jayne turned and headed for the cargo bay door, but had gone only a few steps when he heard a moan from the intercom. Still grinning, Jayne reversed direction, and stopped in front of the speaker in time to catch another, louder moan, and his grin widened, but Zoë's voice wiped it from his face. "Sir? Intercom's still on…"
Grumbling to himself, Jayne headed back across the cargo bay, and cycled the bay doors and dropped the ramp. Walking down the ramp, he looked around to see if he could spot the disturbance. Seeing a tiny little man in the uniform of a messenger, with the Companion's Guild colors prominently displayed, laying on the ground holding his right foot and swearing, Jayne's grin returned full force.
As the blinding pain in his toe faded, the messenger's profanity slowly tapered off before coming to a stop, and looking around, he spied a hulking, slightly sweaty man grinning at him, and became slightly uneasy. 'That doesn't really look like a friendly grin.' Still, he had a job to do, so he asked the man, "Is this the Firefly-class transport Serenity, captained by Mr. Malcolm Reynolds?"
"It is. You lookin' for Mal?" Jayne asked, already knowing the answer.
"I'm afraid not. I'm here on official Guild business. I need to deliver a message to Ms. Inara Serra, and her only, and then I believe I need to go to the hospital. I think I've broken my toe," the messenger finished sheepishly.
The messenger climbed painfully back to his feet, and stood waiting. Still grinning, Jayne walked back into the ship and walked to the intercom. "Hey, Inara. Got a messenger here for you."
There was a long pause, and then Inara's voice came back over the intercom. "I'll be right there."
A/N: Well, this happened faster than I thought it would, but I'm not getting any votes, yet, so please vote, people! Ranma won't come in the picture for a while yet, but I need to start setting it up, one way or the other. Still, there's a few more chapters yet before I need to start thinking about that. I'm still working on the backstory, so there's still time.
A special Thank You goes to BladeFax and RionaEire for reviewing, I appreciate it very much. Don't worry, she won't get THAT much better…. And as for Ranma…. All will be explained. Please be patient. Thank you all for reading.