Authors' Notes: Done, finally done! Our stories seem to be getting longer and longer. We realize February 10 is a bit after New Years, but thanks for sticking out the wait! (Shameless plug) We've also written four other Firefly stories that are stored under Jiolee if you need something new to read :o) As always, reviews are very, very appreciated!

"Honor Among Thieves" (Chapter 7)

By Fish/Jiolee and RSB

The week to the auction went by in the blink of an eye. Mal promised to take on some cargo from Manuel in gratitude for his help, and set up a job with Ryland that they could finish before another week went by. Wash and Book got supplies and kept them at Manuel's, while Kaylee and Inara idled in town, shopping.

The day finally came.

The auction was being held at Cuttingglass's estate, since most of his possessions were already there, and the waterfall-side estate was still much cooler than the police precinct. Manuel and Saoirsa were there, and Michomski gave Mal a sly nod of recognition. There she was, sitting on the lake, the most beautiful ship to ever sail. Serenity.

"Sir?" Zoe was standing next to him. She held out a small wad of bills.

Mal nodded appreciatively and accepted the gift, putting them into his pocket. He furrowed his brow and asked, "How much was that and where did it come from?"

Zoe just smiled and shook her head.

The auction was slow, and surprisingly vicious. Manuel got into a bidding war with a large woman with a pink shawl over the pressed moth collection, and Francesco Michomski successfully outbid a fellow country club member for a jewel-encrusted sculpture collection of the five senses. Mal gave Wash a dirty look when the pilot placed a bid on one of Cuttingglass's shirts. Followed by twenty pairs of white gloves.

The ships that Cuttingglass had collected were up next. The Rimfire Corsair A-2 went for more credits than Mal had handled in his whole life. The Trans-U was also highly sought after.

"Next up, mid bulk transport, series model 03-K64, classification: Firefly. We'll start the bidding at five credits. Do I have five credits? Five credits?" Mal's hand shot into the air. "Thank you sir, five credits! Do I have ten credits? Ten credits? Ten credits, I have five credits, do I hear ten?"

A knot formed in Mal's throat. He barely had five credits. He'd have to scrape together that loose change in his pocket. What if someone out-bid him? Like that weasel faced guy who'd bought the gall stones collection? Or the woman in the red dress, she'd bid hard for the Rimfire. What was he going to do if-

"Five credits! Going once! Twice!" A heart-pounding pause that lasted an eternity. Mal thought he was going to pass out.

"Sold! To the man with only five credits!"

Mal gasped for air. It was ok. He had her back. She was his again, and he was never going to let her go.

Serenity.

The ship actually had to be flown back out to the docks, while Mal paid and signed for it at the police precinct. He wasn't sure if he felt good about buying Serenity back for a fraction of what he'd paid the first time, or if he should have been shooting up a storm for having to buy her back in the first place. He shrugged. It didn't matter anymore.

The crew waited expectantly as the cargo ramp lowered. The arms hesitated at first, then began moving gracefully.

"I think he had her oiled," Kaylee commented, pointing out the arms to Simon. She nodded. "Least he treated her right."

"Better have left everything where he found it," Jayne muttered. He was fidgeting with his knife.

"Auction manifest said it was fully and authentically decorated," added Simon helpfully.

"Old friends," River said.

The ramp finished lowering smoothly and Mal stepped onto the cargo deck proudly. The rest of the crew let him savor his return. A conqueror. An old lover returning home. A –

"What in the sphincter of hell is that?" Mal demanded, pointing to the half-dozen three-foot tall figures clustered in the center of the hold.

The crew cautiously joined the captain. "Look like penguins," Simon said as Wash crept closer to them, his eyes lighting up.

"Are they… alive?" Jayne asked, puzzled.

"Taxidermy," Book explained. "They're stuffed."

"Stuffed animals! I wonder what else is here!" exclaimed Wash.

Kaylee stared a challenge at River, who stared back. They took off at a sprint to see what else R. Salmanander Cuttingglass IV had left them.

"Wash, make sure supplies get loaded before you take off after them," Mal instructed, knowing that if he didn't, Zoe's husband was going to be right after the two girls. "Jayne, you and Book give him a hand. Zoe, why don't we inspect the ship."

"Do you think we all got new friends?" Wash asked as he drove the borrowed mule into the hold, stopping short of the penguins.

Simon stood in the doorway to his room. He wanted to go in, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to check his bag, make sure all the medicine and equipment was in there, make sure his clothes were there. But… he just… couldn't… do it. It wasn't that he was afraid to go into his room.

It was the enormous crocodile poised on his bed, jaws opened wide, tail curved around. The crocodile completely blocked access to the room.

Simon stared into the pink maw for a second longer, then turned and headed to the infirmary. At least he didn't think he'd seen anything reptilian in there. He passed the parrot in the common room, thinking it was a nice addition, and opened the doors to his infirmary.

He flicked on the light switch and jumped. There was a mean looking rat that seemed to be leaping off the bed at him. Of course it wasn't really leaping at him. And it was less than a foot long, if you ignored the tail.

Simon let his arms drop to his side. He stood in the doorway, staring at the rat. The rat stared back at him angrily.

Inara's shuttle was a warm, inviting, luscious place of union. A place of worship, and covenant. It was a shuttle, smallish, sure, but she had made it her own. A piece of independence. Somewhere she could escape to, but also, sometimes, a place she needed to escape from.

She considered R. Salmanander Cuttingglass IV's gift to her. It was six feet tall, shaggy haired, and looked like a camel without a hump. A llama. There was a llama standing tall and proud, smiling a wide llama smile at her. She wouldn't have minded it so much if it didn't draw so much attention to itself.

Maybe she could decorate it… or use the hair to make a nice woolen blanket…

Kaylee and River stood in River's room looking at the fearsome raptor perched over the bed.

"You know, an owl can turn its head all the way around its body," Kaylee said, nodding. River started turning in a tight circle to her left, keeping her gaze fixed on the owl. It was oddly comforting.

Across the hall, Shepherd Book was checking the teeth of the bobcat crouching beside his bed. "These are really some great fangs," he said to himself. "I wonder if this old fellow still has his claws."

River and Kaylee laughed and took off for the engine room.

"I'm half afraid to look in my bunk," Mal said to Zoe as they passed through the mess. They ducked to avoid the opossums hanging in the doorway, and stopped at the table to admire the family of meerkats. Some were sitting, sleeping, eating, a few were standing watch. "But I think I could get used to these little critters. Reminds me of the winter campaign."

"Sir, much as I'm glad you find these critters to be charming, I really think we should get them off the ship."

"You didn't like what he got you."

"That's not what this is about," Zoe insisted, folding her arms.

Mal grinned. "Hey Wash!"

"Not now, captain, I'm teaching my new friend how to count!"

Zoe rolled her eyes and followed Mal over to the crew quarters. He dropped down the ladder and laughed at the bizarre man with the orange hair, the fine white shirt and the white cotton gloves.

Wash stood up and said, "Captain, may I present to you, my friend, Salmanander the Orangutan."

Mal turned back to Zoe, who was crouched at the top of the ladder. "I can see why you want it gone."

"I didn't get to see what was in your room," Wash said to Mal hopefully.

"Typical wingspan one meter, average male weight five hundred seventy to seven hundred and ten grams. Fastest known diving speed three hundred ninety kilometers per hour. Falco peregrinus. The peregrine falcon."

Kaylee looked up at the falcon suspended in mid-air over the engine, its meter wingspan not as impressive as River made it out to be, but somehow elegant. Beautiful. She smiled. "Shiny."

"It would probably eat the anteater in your room if it were still alive," River added.

"She wouldn't neither," Kaylee said, giving River a playful push.

"Would, too," insisted River, pushing back. "Soar and stoop. Big lunch. Good protein. From the ants."

"Alright, you and me gotta get one thing clear. This is my room, and you're a guest. You don't touch anything unless you ask me first. You don't go through my stuff, and you don't wake me in the middle of the night." Jayne put his hat on the polar bear's head and balanced a rifle in its paws. "Aside from that, you make yourself at home."

Mal and Wash were on the bridge as Serenity broke orbit. "I don't know Wash, I kinda like that swordfish thing hanging in my room. Although I think it smells kinda funny. Maybe we oughta put it in the other shuttle."

"No can do," Wash said, reaching overhead to flip a trio of switches. "Inara's already moved her llama in there."

"She got a llama?"

"And Zoe's putting the orangutan in the smuggling compartment by the stairs."

"She's moving Salmanander?"

"She said if I wanted to keep this," Wash patted the gila monster on the head. "We had to get rid of the orangutan."

"That orange beast was practically family. He looked just like you," Mal said straight-faced.

Wash made a face at the captain over his shoulder then turned his attention back to the ship's controls. "Maybe I should have named it Herbie."

R. Salmanander Cuttingglass IV found incarceration to be most disagreeable. Not only that, the horrible and ignoble fate of so many of his hard-won collections, his prizes! It was too awful to imagine. Those foul barbarians were probably splitting the jewel-encrusted senses up, trying to pawn them off or at least, break the diamonds out of the tongue.

The guard came in with his dinner and tipped his hat. What a polite young man, Salmanander thought to himself. Oh, look, some mail. Yes, a correspondence with a nice, youthful, lithe, heiress would be just the thing to take his mind off these ridiculous tax fraud charges.

He read:

'To Sir R. Salmanander Cuttingglass IV. I can't tell you how delighted I was to get my ship back from you. Now, I can appreciate that you have a fondness for pretty ships, sir, but you crossed the line when you stole Serenity from me. You're right lucky I didn't let my crew indulge in their more violent tendencies.

'No sir, I'm afraid you forced my hand. Whoever knew that a man like you would make such powerful enemies in the Alliance Revenue and Collection Services? Or that a gentleman of your stature would be found guilty of tax fraud. Shame, Sir Cuttingglass. Shame. But don't worry, that's all air through the engine now. No harm come to mine. I've got Serenity, and you've got yours. I hope we can part ways amiably and remain good friends, lest they say there's no honor among thieves. Yours, Captain Malcolm Reynolds.'

Fin.