Disclamer: Joss and Russell own it all!

Chapter 13: An Allied Inquisition

"Fall in!"

"Places, people," Mal was propped up against the Tardis, which was underneath a dust coloured tarpaulin, "Try to look like you… fit in."

Spike looked up from the cuffs of his borrowed shirt. I loathe sleeves. Buffy put a hand on his tensed forearm, "Spike, chill," she whispered.

"How do I look? Okay?" his eyes looked terrified, "Dreadful? Say something!"

"You look great… what about me," she looked down at her own outfit then turned in a circle, "Do you think it's a bit… revealing?"

"No… I think it could stand to be a little more revealing," he glanced up at her and gave her a very sexy smirk.

"Later," she stepped away from the enticing vampire, "If we did that now… well… I don't know… Inara said that you'd have to give me something in return." She looked quizzical.

"Right."

"Open your airlocks immediately."

Mal pressed the airlock button, allowing the purple bellied armed forces to flood his ship. "Make yourselves at home," he stated sarcastically as the commanding officer approached him.

"Captain… Reynolds, is it?" the fed held out a hand.

Mal ignored the gesture and crossed his arms, "Yes. What are you doing on my gorram ship?"

An Alliance commissioned warrant was shoved under Mal's nose, "Ring any bells?"

"Yeah… one, we were pardoned after your little operative tracked us across half the damn 'verse," Mal glowered at the purple belly in front of him, "Killed my pilot, had to rebuild my crew thanks to you."

"Yes, I thought they looked a bit different," the officer walked throughout the cargo bay, he stopped in front of Buffy and Inara, "Two companions… I was surprised that you even had one, but two?"

"Business is good," Mal strode over to his side, "Do you want one?"

Buffy's eyes grew wide when she heard Mal's words. Inara put a hand on her shoulder to keep her silent. "She's in training," Inara told the officer before he could reply to Mal.

"Right… well, I'll just give the general a call, get this all cleared up," the official touched his earpiece and began to speak to whomever was in the control room of the Dortmunder, "Okay, you've got base clearance, but we still need to speak to you and your latest crew members, if you'll just follow me."

"So, how did you and the captain meet?"

Spike cocked an eyebrow and bit his lip, "Long story that. Not sure you want to write it all out on that little clipboard of yours."

"Oh, I think I do."

"Whatever you say, mate," he reclined in the uncomfortable chair and crossed his arms, "Lovely little bar down in… London… um."

"Londinum? Well that makes enough sense," the inquirer took down a few notes, "You talk like a Londoner."

"Well, that's who I am," Spike continued to glare at the purple bellied oppressor, "God Save the Queen." He laughed at his reference to the Brit band.

"Anything else you want to tell me?"

"Actually, I didn't want to tell you anything, but being you got me talking I might as well go right ahead and tell you how much I dislike this place," Spike leaned forward and set a hand on the table, "Your bloody florescent lights make me look dead."

"It says here that you took the place of the fallen pilot?"

The blonde simply folded her arms across her ample chest and sneered.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"You might as well," Vera exhaled heavily, causing a strand of fallen hair to fly up then settle back on her cheek, "Not getting the real story out of me."

"Interesting."

"What is?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Your devotion to your captain."

"Look, poncy, my devotion isn't to the captain alone," she sat forward, slamming a fist down on the table.

"No, its not, is it? You lean toward Mr. Cobb, am I correct?"

"Do you really want to walk out of here alive?"

"Captain Reynolds, long time no see."

"It'd be a bit nicer if it was all time, no see," Mal gripped the arm rests of his chair, "Just trying to live my life."

"Yes, you've been under our radar for the past year, started to miss you."

"If I had a platinum…"

"You wouldn't need that shug-maon-yow boat of yours."

"Hey, you watch what you call Serenity, she may be named after something you didn't like too well," Mal released the chair and set his forearms on the table, "Still, respect for the dead."

"Your name is…?"

"Buffy Summers," she replied hesitantly, fiddling with the trailing ribbons on her dress.

"Are you a registered companion?"

"Not yet. I'm still in training. I'm taking lessons from Inara," she began to gain some confidence, which was quickly shattered by the fed's cold manner.

"Is that how you met the captain?"

"How?" she lost all train of thought, "Oh… you mean with Inara… right… uh, yeah."

"And you just decided to follow your mentor to the edge of the civilized 'verse?"

"No where else to go. Inara's like a… sister or something," Buffy pepped up little by little.

"How much experience do you have? In your trade I mean."

"Uh… a little… I don't like, have my diploma or anything," she was trying to sound like she knew what she was portraying, which of course she didn't.

"And you're already in business. Boys out in the black really must be getting desperate."

"Captain Jack Harkness?"

"Yes," Jack flashed the official a shining smile, "And you are?"

"None of your business. How long have you known Mr. Reynolds?"

"I met him… a week ago," Jack pretended to reminisce, "Best day of my life."

"Do you mind elaborating?"

"No, not at all," he reclined comfortably, "We met on a little rock just off Dantooine. His speeder was having engine troubles. He got a little roughed up when it crashed, I took him back to my ship and fixed him up nice."

"Your ship? And where is it now?"

"Um… ewoks, they stripped it of the valuables… nothing left but the hull," Jack was amazingly convincing even when he was lying through his teeth, "Sold that off for scrap and joined the captain."

"Ewoks?"

"Yep, ewoks. They may be all fuzzy and cute on the outside, but you look past that little brown hood and they'll knock you into next Tuesday faster than you can say, 'get off my ship, little guy'," Jack grinned and took a sip of the glass of water before him, "Is this Ozarka?"

"The Doctor?"

"Yep."

"Doctor who?"

"Nope, just the Doctor," he shrugged and beamed.

"Right… you're good to go," the purple belly handed the sheet of paper back to the Doctor and closed his file.

"Name?"

"Rose Tyler."

"How did you meet Captain Reynolds?"

"Um, just travelin', sort of ran into each other," she shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing story for that day and age.

"Any world in particular?"

"Uh… Womanwept… middle of a solar… thingy," she pulled the ideal straight from her last conversation with Mickey, "Frozen waves, hundred feet tall, he sort of… swept me off my feet."

"Are you two intimate?"

"Me and the Doct… erm… captain?" she looked astounded at how quickly the fed jumped to conclusions, "No… swept me off my feet as in I slipped… on the ice."

"Of course."

"Mr. Cobb, we've been keeping close tabs on you since the last time you came through our airlock."

"So?" Jayne crossed his arms and rocked back in the aluminum frame chair.

"We know everything you've done."

"So?" he sniffed, everything my ass.

"The kidnapping of a councilor's niece, rape, and shanghaied her into service aboard that flying trash can."

"Councilor's niece? You mean Vera?" he scoffed at the thought, "I didn't kidnap her, I didn't rape her, and she got the job herself."

"Right, well, I'll just go tell Mr. Wing that and we can just forgive and forget then, I suppose."

"Damn straight," Jayne sat forward, slamming the front legs of the chair down on the ground forcefully, "Wait… Wing?"

"Yes, Mr. Atherton Wing. Does this name mean something to you?"

"Nope, just… sounds funny. Mr. Wing," he chuckled to himself, "Never heard of him, but damn the poor guy, I wonder how many people call him 'Ath'," Jayne made it sound like 'ass' with a lisp.