We'll Be Counting Stars

Chapter Two: All Aboard

Disclaimer: I don't own Firefly or the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

The whole crew gathered around to see their spoils of war, spilling into the cargo bay from all over the ship.

"They're kind of—pretty," said Jane, blinking a bit, "I've never seen so many in one place."

"Definitely worth a little risk," said Tony, grinning.

"There are precious few things worth having that can be obtained without risk," agreed Thor, clapping Tony on the shoulder.

Steve knelt down in front of the crate and ran his hands reverently over the bronzed foil, plucking on delicately from its nest and weighing it in his hands. Everything seemed to be in good shape, the bars were the right size and weight and there wasn't so much as a chip or a crack in the foil or the seals on the case. He froze though as his questing fingers encountered ridging in the underside of the bar.

A furtive glance revealed the Alliance stamp, clear as a new day.

Steve set the bar back into its place and shut the lid of the case abruptly, snapping the outer clasps shut.

"Problem, sir?" asked Pepper, arching one delicate red brow at him.

"Couldn't say," said Steve, giving his first mate a telling glance, there was no telling whether or not Loki had known the goods were stamped when he sent him after them or whether or not he'd cause a stink when he discovered what he'd paid for. "Tell you what though, we'd best get this unloaded before we run into another Alliance patrol."

"They have run far beyond their usual borders," Thor commented, lifting one of the crates, "I've no clear notion of their purpose in this outlying region of space."

"Well you know how these government types are," said Bruce, shrugging, "Looking to shine the light of civilization."

"Not that it does us any good," called Tony.

"Well, we're uncivilized," Bruce pointed out with a toothy grin, "Hey, Barton, come help me with this one, would you?"

Clint hopped down from his perch on the upper decks—distaining the stairs as usual—and grabbed one end of the second case while Bruce took the other.

Steve followed Tony and Pepper to the stairs leading up into the body of the ship.

"How long til we reach Persephone?" he asked Tony, catching his arm to pull him up.

"Three or four hours, probably," he answered, sticking his hands into the pockets of his flight suit.

"Can we shave that?"

Tony shook his head, "We're down to the wire on fuel cells as it is, Cap. I mean I could burn it hot, sure. JARVIS could probably navigate it for us but we miss by the smallest margin and we'll be dead in the water. Y'know, metaphorically speaking."

"Alright, cut it as close as you can though. This catch is burning a hole in my hull."

"You think that cruiser might've ID'd us?" asked Pepper suddenly, frowning.

"Let's hope not. That'd just make my month," Steve took a breath and then let it out again slowly, nodding at nothing, "Contact Loki. Let him know the job's done. Give him our ETA. Don't mention the cruiser though Pep. Keep it simple."

Pepper shot him a searching look.

"Sir, are we sure there's nothing wrong with the cargo?"

"It's fine," Steve insisted, "I just want to get paid."

"If you say so, sir," said Pepper.

"Has our Ambassador checked in yet?" Steve asked, switching gears a bit.

"Naw, but I think she had a pretty full docket," answered Tony.

"Okay, well, after you talk to Loki let her know that we may have to leave Persephone in a hurry."

"Darcy knows our timetable," Pepper said, "She'll be checking in soon."

"I can tell her to make it a quickie. Meet us at the docks," Tony offered.

"No, no," said Steve, "Don't want to get in her way if we don't have to. Somebody on this boat has to make an honest living."

Pepper followed Tony up the stairs, presumably headed back to the bridge to chart the course to Persephone and see what JARVIS could do for them time-wise.

Steve turned back to the rest of the crew, projecting his voice so that they could all hear him.

"All right, let's get these crates stowed. Don't want any tourists stumbling over them."

"We're taking on passengers at Persephone?" asked Bruce, leaning back from the hidey hole.

"That's the notion," Steve confirmed, moving to help Clint with the last of the crates, "We could use a bit of respectability on the way to Boros. Not to mention the money."

"It's reckless, hauling passengers with our stolen goods, we're just asking for trouble," sighed Bruce.

"No it's shiny!" protested Jane.

"Aye, these far flung folk have many a grand tale to tell," said Thor.

"Cap, can you please stop these two from being so cheerful, please," groaned Clint.

"I don't think there's a power in the 'verse that can stop those two from being cheerful. Sometimes you just want to duct tape their mouths shut and dump 'em in the hold for a month."

"That's a little generous, Cap," snorted Bruce.

They replaced the panelling in front of the hidey-hole and Steve stood up brushing his hands off on his pants, "That should do it," he said tugging on the panelling to make sure it was secure, "And Loki should be in possession of the goods long before the tourists even see the inside of the hull Banner, not to worry."

Bruce snorted eloquently but left it at that.

Not that he was wrong, Steve thought to himself climbing the stairs up out of the cargo bay and making for the bridge himself. That was the problem with dealing with Loki, you were always as likely to get royally screwed over as not. But jobs were starting to get thin on the ground and Steve had his crew to think of so he'd agreed to do this salvage run despite his better judgement.

He just hoped he could turn this in their favour.

The Eavesdown docks were, in Steve's humble opinion, the most interesting part of Persephone. What had started out as a simple docking area for cargo vessels had become a bazaar of questionable but delicious foods, brightly coloured people and the combination of handicrafts and thievery that spoke of the two primary classes of inhabitants, poor and poorer.

The airlock doors hissed open and Bruce lowered the docking ramp.

"One way or another this shouldn't take long," Steve called out to him, "Put us down for departure in three hours."

"Sure thing, Cap."

"Stark, take the Mule, fuel her up. Grab any supplies we're low on, while we're at it. And nothing that doesn't fall under the heading of necessary for life Tony, I mean it," Steve said thinking about the time Tony had come back from the markets with expensive booze and caviar, "Actually, Hawkeye, watch him. Would you?"

"Sure thing, Cap," agreed Clint easily.

"Come on I don't need a babysitter," complained Tony, "I've been good!"

"The important this is that you believe that, dear," said Pepper, favouring Tony with a peck on the cheek before joining them at the foot of the gangway, Thor on her heels.

Bruce moved to enter their arrival and departure times into the docking log, and said "You know I could go with them. I'd like to find a new compression coil for the steamer."

"Bruce," sighed Steve, "I'd like to be king of all Londinum and wear a shiny hat, but it's just not gonna happen. Just get us some passengers, alright? Ones who can pay."

"Compression coil busts we're drifting," warned Bruce.

"You're the best mechanic in the 'verse Bruce," Steve said clapping him on the shoulder.

"That doesn't mean it won't bust," groaned Bruce, but Steve was already walking away, following Pepper and Thor further into the milling crowds on the street.

Behind them Tony rumbled down the gangway on the mule, Clint perched on the trailer coupling and looking for all the world like it was a proper seat.

"Hey," he called out to them, "Zhu tamin ya min. Zhu yi."

"We will," answered Pepper.

And then they were on their way.

The air was thick with the scent of spices, cooking meat and unwashed bodies but the lungfuls of unrecycled air were always a treat after a long stretch in the Black. That wasn't to say that if he was asked he wouldn't choose Serenity over any other place in the 'verse but variety was the spice of life.

Loki's 'offices'—such as they were—were located below the main street, a series of old maintenance tunnels, closed down storm pipes and the basements of old buildings made it a veritable warren. But the entrance that Steve and his guys always used was a simple one off an alley not far from the docks.

One of Loki's thugs was there to meet them and lead them into the inner sanctum, to their master.

The sanctum itself, well, it was dingy and hidden from the high Persephone sun only lighting up when the occasional speeder or shuttle passed close overhead but it was draped in silks and banners like a lush throne room and in the centre lounged the king.

"Show me your teeth," he said, motioning to the girl in front of him.

She was a young one, poor and from a poor family but classically pretty with long brown hair and the wide almond eyes that spoke of mixed race—selling herself into slavery.

She grinned bravely and it pricked at Steve's sense of chivalry, deepening the well of simmering anger towards Loki and all he stood for. But he had his own people to think of, and he wasn't in any position to help the girl. Even if he did 'save' her from her self-imposed future she would still have to go back to her family with no money, no food, and no prospects.

Steve took a steadying breath and shared a glance with Pepper. Thor was gritting his teeth but he'd clenched his fists to keep from reaching for his hammer. Not playing into Loki's hands. Steve shook his head, feeling a bit wry, he should know better. Thor might've been a hot-head but he knew his brother better than anyone in the 'verse. He wasn't about to be drawn into his schemes that easily.

"Satisfactory," Loki proclaimed, "Take her."

He gave an imperious wave and one of the thugs—this one even more heavily armed than the last—took the girl away, slipping around a silk curtain and disappearing into the depths of the rabbit's warren of tunnels.

"Ah, Brother and rabble. You're late."

"You're lying," Steve said, calmly stepping forward.

He'd made the mistake of letting Thor handle Loki before and he wasn't in a hurry to repeat the lesson.

"What did you just say to me?" hissed Loki around grit teeth.

"You're well aware we landed two hours before we planned to, with all the goods you sent us after intact, ready to roll. So your decision to get tetchy, say we're late, means you're looking to put us on the defensive right up front. Which means something's gone wrong. It didn't go wrong on our end, so why don't we start again with you telling us what's up?" Steve said, favouring Loki with a cool look.

He got a mean little smile, smarmy and insincere for his troubles.

"Well, then let me rephrase," he said silkily, "You are later than I'd like."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Loki reached over to his desk for a plasi-film and held it up with a pointed wiggle. It was too far away for Steve to make out the actual bulletins but then again he didn't really need to see them to know which one had Loki's proverbial panties in a knot.

"Had you arrived in a more timely fashion perchance you may have beaten the bulletin that came up about the rogue vessel, 'Firefly' class, that was spotted engaging in illegal salvage on a derelict transport."

"They didn't ID us," Steve pointed out, arching a brow—and wasn't that a relief to know for good and certain, "It doesn't lead to you."

"No it doesn't," agreed Loki, his smirk morphing into something closer to a snarl, "But the government stamp on every molecule of the cargo might."

Pepper was giving him a look, it was quite a pointed look, it was the look that she usually reserved for Tony, the one that said—'This is the kind of thing you tell me right away and not a second later!'

"Oh, so you did notice that? And you were simply going to hand over imprinted goods and watch me twist, is that the case?"

"We didn't pick the cargo," Steve said, jaw tight.

"And I didn't catch the attention of the gorram law," said Loki, his voice deceptively mild. "There will be no deal."

"You made us an agreement Brother," snapped Thor, "Honour it."

"I think not. Crime and politics Brother, dear. The situation is always…fluid."

"You dare—"

"Thor," interjected Steve, "I'll handle this."

Thor subsided reluctantly, fingering his hammer in a way that made Loki's goons' hands twitch on their weapons.

"It doesn't have to go this way Loki. You can still unload those goods and we both know it. So I can't help thinking there's something else at work here."

Loki ran his fingers over the edge of his desk, and then rose in a single graceful movement to circle Steve, hands clasped behind his back, pace measured.

"What were you, in the war? That large arduous war you failed to win? You were a sergeant, were you not?"

Steve didn't dignify the creep with an answer, and he resisted the urge to bury a fist in his smug face.

"Sergeant Steven Grant Rogers of the Howling Commandos. Decorated veteran. Now you've acquired a ship for yourself and you're a Captain. Except that when I look at you, I still see the sergeant. You're still too much the soldier, Rogers. You're a man of honour in a den of thieves. Well, this is my den. And I don't like the way you look down on me. I am above you, a god forced to cater to the whims of mortals. King of this shadowy realm. A businessman, one with roots in the community. You, Captain, are merely a scavenger."

Steve kept a tight rein on his temper, it helped that Loki tended towards the dramatic, with a flair that was occasionally more amusing than annoying.

"I may not be a fancy gentleman like you…with your very fine hat…but I am here to do business. So let's do business."

"Try the border planets. I hear that they are far more desperate. Of course they might kill you, but if you try and offload any goods on Persephone I am quite certain that the Alliance will track you down. Quite certain."

Thor and Pepper both have their weapons to hand, their faces set and their gazes furious. If Steve were a less responsible man he might let them kill Loki. He would certainly join the attempt. If Steve were a less responsible man, they would be lying in pools of their own blood in minutes, and Loki's death would be a good deal less satisfying.

He left his weapon holster and turned his back on Loki and his goons, making for the door and feeling reluctantly grateful when he was allowed to move freely for the exit.

"The wheel never stops turning Loki," he warned.

"That only matters to the people on the rim."

The journey back into the bright light of the street—and the harsh light of reality, now that they hadn't even been paid for all their troubles—was made in terse silence, and Steve could feel the weight of Thor's disapproval all but boring holes through the back of his skull.

Pepper wasn't that obvious. But she wasn't terribly subtle either.

"I know not why you persist in avoiding confrontation with my brother, Captain," rumbled Thor as soon as they were into a thick enough crowd that they wouldn't be overheard and they could be reasonably sure they weren't being followed by one of Loki's pet assassins, "You cannot expect fair dealings of him if you do not force his hand."

"Trying to force Loki's hand ends with us dead. We can't get paid if we're dead."

"We cannot get paid if we turn tail and flee at the first sign of trouble either, and we have dire need of the funds."

"So we'll find a buyer on Boros," said Pepper practically, "Might have to markdown the price but—"

"Boros is too big and it's crawling with Alliance," Steve said, shaking his head, "And Loki'll have 'em waiting for us."

"You really think he'd set the Feds on us?"

"If he hasn't already I'll be damned surprised," said Steve, eyeing the two officers who'd drawn the short stick and were set to policing this crowded section of the bazaar.

"Alliance catches us with government goods we'll lose the ship to the reparations. They figure out we salvaged them illegally and we'll all end up in lock-up, and that's before they pull our files and charge us with dissention and treason."

"I won't let it happen."

"Sir, we could just dump the goods—"

"Pep, you know as well as I do that the last two jobs we did were weak tea. We've got nothing saved and taking on passengers is the only way we're gonna have the coin to get to Boros. If we don't get paid for this job we don't have enough to fuel the ship or pay the dock fees, let alone pay the crew or get the parts Bruce wants for repairs and maintenance—we'll be dead in the water."

Pepper let out a long breath, lengthening her stride to a ground-eating march that Steve matched on instinct.

"So we do what Loki said. The border planets?"

"I was thinking we'd make a stop in Whitefall, maybe talk to Phillips."

"Sir, we don't want to deal with Phillips again," Pepper insisted.

"Why not?"

"He shot you," Pepper reminded him shrilly, "He threw a grenade at your head!"

"Yeah, well, he did a bit…"

"What about Horowitz?"

"Like he can afford it," snorted Steve.

"Holden boys?"

"They won't touch it, not after the thing we're not supposed to talk about happened. You want me to run the list Pepper? The Capshaws are brain-blown. Gruvick's dead—"

"He's dead?" parroted Pepper, incredulous.

"Town got hit by Reavers. They burned it right down."

"We would do well to find alternatives to venturing too near to Reaver territory. Those creatures care for nothing but the satiation of their blood-thirst," said Thor, shuddering minutely despite the sun beating down overhead.

"Whitefall is the safest and the closest. Been a long time since Phillips shot me and that was due to a perfectly legitimate conflict of interest. I've got no grudge and he got to shoot me, so we should be coming up on even. He owns half that damn moon now. He can afford what we've got and he just might need it."

"I still don't think the old man's the way," Pepper said stubbornly as they turned and caught sight of Serenity.

Tony was loading up a large-ish cryo chamber with the mule and Jane was greeting passengers as they climbed the gangway, her voice high and clear even over the din of the people around them.

Thor brightened immediately upon spotting her, waving a dark-haired man in dark clothes into the belly of the ship.

"Welcome aboard Mr…"

"Rumlow," grunted the clean-cut thug with the black duffle.

"Mr. Rumlow."

Steve paused in the street while Thor strode on ahead.

"Look, Pep, I'm not saying it won't get sticky but we've got no other options," Steve said, "You with me?"

"Of course, sir."

"Then it'll all be fine," grinned Steve, "We've just gotta keep our heads down and our wits sharp and pray there aren't anymore surprises.

"If you say so, sir," said Pepper dubiously, before following after Thor.

Steve made a beeline for Bruce who was standing next to a very beautiful woman with a head full of dark red curls, who was dressed more for a cocktail party than a voyage in a gold silk number that wouldn't have been out of place on Darcy.

"Please be careful with that," she said, frowning at Tony her red-stained lips pursed attractively, "The contents are very delicate."

"Steve," greeted Bruce with a slightly strained smile, "I'd like you to meet Miss. Natalie Rushman. Miss. Rushman, this is the captain, Steve Rogers."

"Captain Rogers," greeted the woman with a regal incline of her head that spoke of Good Breeding.

"Ma'am," acknowledged Steve with military correctness, "Welcome aboard."

"Thank you."

"This all we got?" Steve asked, turning to Bruce.

He counted three strangers on his boat, including the crew-cut thug Jane had waved inside earlier. More than he was maybe expecting given how little time he'd given Bruce, and he was sure that was mostly Jane's bubbly nature showing, but another one or two wouldn't have been unwelcome given their financial circumstances.

"Yes, Captain."

"Alright then, close her up, we're on a tight schedule."

He strode into the cargo bay, moving automatically over to where Pepper was frowning over the proceedings. Miss. Natalie had a matching case set to go with her cryo pod, crew-cut Rumlow had a big tool-kit that screamed gun-for-sale and a suspicious black duffle. And then there was tall, lanky Joe Normal with his mismatched bags, flip-flops and sunglasses.

"And now we have a boatload of citizens on top of our stolen cargo. That's a fun mix," said Pepper.

"There's no way in the 'verse any of 'em could find that compartment, even—" Steve cut himself off as Rumlow wandered within earshot, and then continued in a lower voice, "Even if they were looking for it."

"Why not?" countered Pepper, arching a brow.

""Cause…"

"Oh yeah. This is going to go great."

"If anyone gets nosy, just y'know…shoot 'em."

"Shoot 'em?" repeated Pepper, a chuckle in her voice and an upward quirk to her mouth.

"Politely," amended Steve, grinning back at her.

"The Ambassador has returned!" called Tony, jubilant, from over the coms.

"Looks like we've got a full house, Cap," said Pepper.

"Bruce, lock her up!" Steve called out to his mechanic who was lingering on the gangway.

He hit the button to engage the airlock doors and they slid shut with a pneumatic hiss, the gangway rising up behind them.

"All aboard," Steve muttered to himself, as the pressure changed and Serenity's engines rumbled to life.

AN: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read, review, fave, and alert! As always please review or shoot me a PM and let me know what you thought! I love hearing from you guys :)

Til next time

-Donna