Chapter 2: Time is Money

Jayne drifted in that delicious zone between waking and deep sleep. Masters had broken out a bottle of scotch after dinner, and the liquor on top of a very short night's sleep was catching up with him.

Across the room, he could vaguely hear Kaylee roll over and fluff her pillow for something like the twentieth time. "Hey, Jayne," she called softly, "you awake?"

"Mmm hmm."

"You reckon the Cap'n would be mad if he found out Captain Masters paid me?" Kaylee asked more loudly.

"Mmm hmm."

"Maybe I shouldn't accept it, then," she agonized.

"Spen' it on th'engines. Tell 'im after Bec's lon' gone," he mumbled.

"Yeah, I guess that's the best way," she agreed. "Hey, Jayne, you figure the Cap'n's awake? I bet he's chewing up the bridge right now."

"Be worry 'bou' you." That delicious place was drifting further away.

"Poor Cap. He'll be dead on his feet by the time we get to Midgard."

"S'own fault. 'Ways doin' s'fool righteous thi' gess us inno tr'ble."

"He just wants to do the right thing, is all. Don't it make you sad to see those slaves? They look so miserable."

"Go 'sleep." Please, go to sleep.

"I can't," she whined. Then, after a long pause, "Jayne . . . I'm afraid."

Jayne sighed and pushed himself up on one elbow. "Hey . . . everything's gonna be hao. We're getting off in a day or so, and I've still got Ursula. We're safe."

"I know. I guess I just miss everybody, 'fraid I won't see 'em again."

He collapsed back onto his bed. "You'll see 'em."

"Yeah—but I wish I could tell the Captain that," she said, her voice cracking on a sob.

"Aw, hell," Jayne griped, sitting up again. He was well out of that sleep zone now. "C'mere. Neither one of us is gonna sleep at this rate." He threw his blanket back, making room for her.

Meekly, she crawled out of bed and snuggled against his chest. He lay back down and put his arms around her, patting her awkwardly. "We're gonna get out of here and back to Serenity. I promise. And Mal'll be so happy to see you, he'll forget how scared he's feeling right now. C'mon, let's sleep—you don't want to look all red-eyed and pee-kid when he sees you."

She sniffed noisily a few times to clear her nose and then settled down with her back to Jayne. She felt warm and vulnerable, trusting. He put an arm over her protectively and let himself drift back to towards sleep.

"You don't snore, do you, Jayne?" she giggled.

"Go 'sleep."

Mal sat alone on the bridge, forlornly gazing at the proximity monitor. Wash had set a course to follow Edinburgh, and Mal had ordered him back to bed. Now Mal was watching to make sure that the other ship didn't change course suddenly and lose them. He didn't know what else to do. He'd tried hailing Edinburgh several times: he'd apologized for his high-handed attitude and practically begged Captain Masters to speak to him. There had been no reply.

Everybody had assured him that Kaylee and Jayne would be all right, but he could tell that they were trying to convince themselves of that, and that they blamed him. If he hadn't been so rutting superior, Masters would've returned his crew. Wash had made a comment to that effect, and Zoë said it with her silence.

Inara said it with her eyes.

Only River seemed to truly believe it when she said Kaylee would come back unharmed. He wanted to believe her—maybe too much. The girl was crazy, after all.

He leaned on the console and rested his face in his hands. His breath caught raggedly, and he inhaled deeply and slowly, fighting to control his growing sense of helplessness.

The sound of measured footsteps on the stairs behind him made him freeze. He kept his back to the hatch and stared stonily ahead. "I'm not real good company right now," he warned coldly.

"I know," said the shepherd. "I wouldn't be much good at my calling if I let that keep me away."

"You come here to tell me I just have to trust in God and everything will work out all right?" Mal asked scornfully.

"No," Book replied. He stepped past the captain's chair and eased himself into the copilot's seat. "I know better than to try the frontal attack. I thought I'd try a flanking maneuver with a sermon on the evils of shutting out those who care for you."

Mal dropped his eyes to the monitor and gazed at the blip representing Edinburgh. "I fucked up, Preacher," he said. "I know it. You know it. They all know it. And now there ain't nothin' to do but follow and wait."

"Mal, we're all scared for Kaylee—and for Jayne. Everybody is gathered round the table, trying to get through the waiting. And we're all worried about you, too. This isn't a time to be alone."

"I ain't alone. I got all these cheery thoughts for company."

"Please, come join us," Book pleaded.

"No call for anybody to be worried 'bout me. Kaylee's the one in trouble. And Jayne."

Book leaned forward and put a hand on Mal's shoulder. "If God is with anybody in this whole 'verse, he's with Kaylee. He'll look after her."

Mal tilted his head and finally looked at the Preacher. "I spent two whole months in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, Shepherd, and God didn't show his face one time. Men prayed and men died, and they rotted where they fell while crows picked their bones—and He didn't care one gorram bit. You'll understand if I don't much count on Him looking out for Kaylee."

"But you still believe in Him, don't you?" Book asked quietly. "Even if you're mad as Hell at Him."

"Do those slaves you so tenderly ministered to believe in Him?" Mal shot back.

"Most of them," Book replied. "They hold out hope for a better time in the afterlife. It's a comfort to them."

"And an excuse for them what own 'em."

"As if they need an excuse. But, do you still believe?"

Mal considered for a moment. "I don't want to believe in Him," he admitted. "It'd be easier to think He just doesn't exist. But then I'd have to hate the ones that taught me to believe in Him—and they all died. I miss them too much to hate them, Shepherd. All I can do is hate Him, instead. It's all I have left."

Book squeezed his shoulder. "Go ahead and hate Him, son. He can bear it."

Mal's eyes strayed back to the monitor. He hunched his shoulders. "I reckon He can. If He can bear all the sufferin' and dyin', then my curses are hardly worth the effort."

"He hears you, Mal. But none of us can understand what he plans for us."

The captain shrugged off Book's hand and turned an angry glare at the Shepherd. "I don't want Him plannin' anything for me, Preacher. I once told you that God ain't welcome on this ship. I know you're thinkin' that when I get desperate enough, I'll turn to Him again. But you can stop thinking that. I'll put my faith in my crew, in Zoë—in Jayne, even. And I'll go on shouldering the blame when I earn it. For now, I'd like to be alone. Don't make me order you off my bridge."

"Very well," Book replied, not the least offended.

Mal didn't look at him as he left.

"What the hell is this?"

Inara looked up from her calligraphy. She had been expecting this intrusion for the past hour, ever since Mal spread the accounts out on the dining table. He had barely slept the night before and was understandably on edge: the timing could not be worse. "It's what we agreed to," she replied calmly.

Mal shook a heavy wad of bills at her. "This is enough for a year's rent and then some."

"It's my rent, plus your fee for defending the Heart of Gold."

Mal's jaw clenched for a moment with suppressed rage. Visibly holding himself in check, he pitched the money onto her bed. "I told you I didn't want to be paid for that job back when I agreed to it."

She set her calligraphy aside and folded her hands in her lap. "And I told you that I wanted to keep this a business relationship. I offered you a job, and you took it."

"No. I offered to help your friend, and you insisted on paying for it." He paused a moment and took a deep breath. "And, seein' how things turned out, I'm thinkin' that payment wasn't earned, anyways."

She stood and moved close to him. "Mal. The entire crew put their lives at sake for those women. Of course the payment was earned."

He took a step back from her. "Inara, I once told Saffron that I was fortunate to have a ship full of people who do for each other. We don't pay each other for jobs—we help each other."

"Be reasonable, Mal. They all came to your rescue when Niska had you. All their money from the Ariel job went to buying Wash's way out—and you haven't had a decent job since. Serenity needs the money."

"I admit things are tight," he retorted. "And if it gets to the point where I don't have the wherewithal to keep the ship flyin', then you can come to me real businesslike and offer me a loan."

He turned and strode out of the shuttle. He paused for a moment at the hatch and said, "You know, these past years, it's not often that I feel the urge to do anything for anybody, no strings attached. I wanted to do something for you, and it felt good to be able to help. But I guess I shouldn't expect a companion to know that favors ain't meant to be paid for."

Inara sat down shakily once he was gone. She was trembling—but whether from anger or dread, she could not say.

The next morning, Mal wove through the townsfolk in the streets of Freya on Midgard. He strained to see over their heads, to catch a glimpse of Jayne towering over the crowd, or of graying red hair.

He raised the comm unit in his left hand. "Any sign, Zoë?"

"None, sir."

"Tāmāde. Keep looking."

"That was my intention, sir."

In front of him, the flow of the crowd shifted as people moved to the right, shunning something coming down the street towards them on the left side. He could hear the sound of metal jingling. Mal stood his ground and found himself alone facing a gray line of stumbling slaves, the chains around their waists swaying. They were flanked by four grimy men with clubs. One of them waved his club at Mal, motioning him aside. When Mal didn't move, the man shoved him back. Mal stumbled and looked up angrily, his right hand balled in a fist— and he suddenly froze. In the line of downcast faces, a lone pair of gray eyes stared desolately into his—the boy he'd seen on Masters' ship.

Mal held the boy's eyes as he passed and watched his thin back disappear down the street.

The unit in his hand squawked and Zoë's voice came over it. "Sir, I've found Kaylee and Jayne."

He tore his gaze from the retreating figures and looked back up the street and to the right, in the general direction Zoë was supposed to be heading. "Safe?" he asked.

"And sound. They were heading to Serenity."

"Where are you?"

"Four blocks east of the market square."

"Stay put. I'll be right there."

He cast one more glance down the street as he rushed off: the slaves and their keepers were lost to sight.

He saw Jayne first. He raised a hand to get the mercenary's attention and the big man dipped his head in reply. Then Mal's heart lurched as Kaylee's face lit up like the sun at the sight of him. She rushed to him and flung her arms around him with a squeal.

"Cap'n! I missed you!"

He crushed her to him. "I was so worried about you," he muttered in her ear. "I am so sorry, little girl."

"Jayne looked after me," she assured him.

Mal met Jayne's eyes over the girl's head. "I was fair sure he would," he said.

The big man grinned. "Kaylee made it easy. She charmed Masters near the same way she charms you."

"And you're immune?"

Jayne frowned with mock offense. "Hey, I'm as tenderhearted as the next guy."

"Well, c'mon you two. I know a crew that's pretty anxious to see you both." Mal put an arm around Kaylee's shoulders to usher her back towards the ship. She took a few steps and then suddenly stopped.

"Cap'n—I almost forgot. You've got to meet Cap'n Masters. She said she has a job for us."

"We got a job," Mal said sternly, "and we're gonna be late thanks to her."

"She's already waiting for you, Mal," Jayne put in. "Can't hurt to listen to her."

"She abducted you both, an' you still want to work for her?"

"She was nice enough about it. She said she did it to get back at you for turning down her money, but I think she wanted to know more about you. Might be she has something interesting."

Mal looked questioningly at Zoë. She shrugged. "Like Jayne said, sir, it probably won't hurt to talk to her."

"We'll get Kaylee back to Serenity and then the three of us will go," Mal said.

"You're supposed to go alone, Cap'n," Kaylee chirped.

"Hell I will," Mal spat. "I still don't trust the woman."

"I think you're gonna want me to take you there, Mal," Jayne said. "And Zoë could wait outside. She just wants to talk to you alone."

"On her ship? We been through this one already."

"Not her ship—she's got a meeting place worked out."

Mal looked furtively up and down the street before ducking his head and following Jayne through the door of the bordello. The red décor was garish and heavy perfumes blended into a suffocating smorgasbord of scents. A busty woman with heavy thighs in a garter belt and high heels sidled by and eyed him up and down. He looked away hurriedly.

"This woman's got some sense of humor," Mal hissed.

"Don't be a jiazhèngjing," Jayne retorted. "She's not the first to think you need to get laid."

"That's it," Mal said, turning and heading for the door.

Jayne threw an arm around his shoulder, turned him back around and headed him across the foyer to the receiving room. "You'll love this," he chortled. "This looks like a cherry spot." He kept a tight hold on his captain as an attractive middle-aged woman in a long full skirt and a low-cut bosom swayed toward them.

"My, my," she cooed. "The girls'll be scratchin' each other's eyes out over you two."

"If you wanna call 'em all down and commence to cat fightin', we'd pay extra," Jayne chortled.

"No—we don't want no fuss made," Mal protested. "Let's just do this quiet like."

"This is my friend's first visit to a ladies' establishment," Jayne ad-libbed, oblivious to the glare Mal was directing at him. "He's gonna need a girl who's good with nervous colts." He followed up with an obvious wink.

"I've got just the one," the madam replied with a warm smile. She stepped back to a curtain at the far end of the room and pushed it aside. "Ginny, I've got a boy in need of gentlin' out here."

A petite blonde in leather pants, a tight vest and a broad-brimmed hat sauntered out. She had a lariat in one hand. She looked from Mal to Jayne with cool interest.

"Just the thing," Jayne commented, pushing Mal forward.

Before he could stop himself, Mal had stumbled within inches of the girl. She craned her head back to look at him and traced his cheek with a long fingernail. "Heigh-o, sweetness," she crooned. She curled her fingers around the lapel of his brown coat and pulled him towards the stairs. He hesitated a moment and she swatted his hip with the bunched rope. He twitched away from her and then blushed to his ears and gave in.

As she led him away, he looked over his shoulder at Jayne and ordered, "Don't be too long."

Jayne grinned. "I'll catch up."

The whore pulled him up two flights of stairs and along a corridor with many doors before stopping at one in a small alcove. She opened the door and stood blocking it. Her arms twined around his neck. "You just go in here and I'll be along shortly." She trailed one hand down his chest and caressed him south of his suspenders before stepping aside and heading further down the hall.

Mal bolted into the room and closed the door.

"I hope you're not planning on disappointing that girl. She seems to truly fancy you."

The captain turned to where Masters was seated on a loveseat against the right wall. "That's the problem with the professionals," he said. "You never can be sure where you stand."

"You do seem the type who likes to seduce them on his own," she laughed.

"As a rule. I'm not against bein' seduced myself from time to time, when I'm sure the interest is genuine. If you lured me here to seduce me, I should warn you that I have a strict policy against relations with them that kidnap my crew."

"You're a pretty package, lad, but my first concern is all business."

"You picked a funny place for doin' business," he noted.

"I wanted someplace where we could meet unobserved. The brothel was Jayne's idea. I gather he's a frequent customer."

Mal grinned wickedly. "Well, now. He's gonna pay for that one. He had entirely too much fun draggin' me in here." He settled into a wing-backed chair to one side of the loveseat. "I gotta tell you, I'm not much in a mind to have dealings with you after the stunt you pulled. I also generally don't do business with them that abduct my crew."

"Then let me start by apologizing for that. I was angry when I did it."

"You had a full thirty hours or more to think better of it."

"True. But then I started thinking that you could help me with this job, and the more I talked with Kaylee and Jayne, the more I knew I was right. So, I kept them with me to make sure you followed me all the way here."

Mal frowned. "Just what did they say?"

"Nothing they shouldn't, I assure you. I offered them both jobs, you know. They turned me down flat."

"You must not've offered Jayne enough money."

"I offered him a great deal, actually. He said it was half again what you pay him. But he said he wasn't just interested in payoff anymore. It seems he's set on earning your trust."

"Well, that's good to hear. I'm set on him earning it, too—if I don't kill him first."

"Your best advocate is Kaylee. That girl can joke with Jayne about all your failings and still keep you high on a pedestal. And she got all teary talking about how worried you'd be."

"We were all worried."

"I'm sure. I'd worry about her, too. But you were the only one she was concerned about."

"Really? I know somebody who wouldn't be too pleased to hear that."

"What do you do to inspire such loyalty?"

"Look out for my crew. And refuse jobs that don't sit well with us."

"Or back out on them? Like for Adelei Niska?"

Mal's eyes met hers warily. "Jayne tell you 'bout that?"

"He didn't have to, lad. Word gets around in our circles. You should be more careful."

"And stick to the easy stuff, like moving slaves?" he snapped.

"You're young, yet. Don't be so quick to judge. The time will come when you find yourself doing jobs you swore you'd never take."

Mal shifted uneasily and suddenly took great interest in the toe of his right boot.

"Which brings me around to why I wanted to talk to you. The most important feature of most of the jobs I take is that they give me a legitimate reason to visit this port. I've got reasons for wanting to come here often. Back when I was a teenager, I had a friend that I shared all my secrets with." She paused a moment and seemed to gather her resolve. "Lizzy knew all the details of my first crushes and my father's beatings. I thought we'd be best friends forever. But then, we grew up and we went in different directions, and we lost touch. I guess it happens to all of us.

"I'd had my ship for a few years and was just figuring out that my crew was worthless when Lizzy showed up at our berth in Freehaven. She was ill and scared half to death, and she was eight months pregnant.

"I hid Lizzy. I fired the crew and took on a new pilot. Then we set off into the Black. I wanted to take Lizzy somewhere where she could get medical attention, but she wouldn't hear of it. She bore that baby in the cold Black. It was strong and healthy, and it was the death of her.

"Lizzy made me promise that I'd make sure the babe was safe—but she never did tell me who I was keeping the bairn safe from. So, I placed the babe in an orphanage with the monks here, and I send money for her upkeep when I can. And I keep an eye out. I've done that for nearly ten years now."

Mal looked up. "And now?"

She sighed. "Well, now I can't help thinking that she's been too long in one place. There's a stronger Alliance presence here than there used to be—and some of those types make me very nervous."

He nodded. "I can understand that."

"And the monks tell me that somebody has been asking questions. I want to find her a new haven, but I'm afraid that I'll just call attention to her. Her mother and I were too strongly connected."

"So you want me to take her?" Mal asked.

She nodded. "Take her, and find her a new home. Don't even tell me where—it's safer for her if I don't know."

"And easier for you to wash your hands of her," Mal bridled.

She tilted her head and regarded him seriously. "Maybe. Maybe that's what I'm doing. Maybe I'm tired of worrying about her, tired of the responsibility."

"And maybe I don't want the responsibility."

She smiled at him fondly. "You never do, do you? But you always shoulder it in the end. And from what little I've seen, foolhardy noble gestures are a particular specialty of yours."

Mal fingered his left ear. "They used to be, but I'm beginning to see the error of my ways."

"Well, don't be too quick to renounce your old ways. This particular gesture could earn you a handsome fee, rather than costing you one."

" Gou pì! It's not that simple. Sounds like some dangerous sorts might be after her already. I've got my own crew's safety to think of."

"The monks swear they gave no indication she was there. It's always been my plan to move her, but the right hero just hadn't come along."

"Oh, that's me, all right. Big damn hero."

"So, you'll do it?"

"For argument's sake, let's say I will. What kind of fee are we talking, and what would I have to go through to fetch her? You aren't keeping her in a whorehouse, are you?"

Fifteen minutes later, the two captains shook hands and sealed the deal. Masters threw a cloak around her shoulders, pulled up the hood, and disappeared down the hallway to a back staircase. Mal paced the room restlessly and waited for his assigned girl to reappear.

When she slipped into the room, he stood with the chair between them and asked, "So, do I head downstairs alone looking cocky, or do we go down together?"

She threw her hat on the love seat and shook her hair back. "Well, you're all paid up for another forty minutes, and you'll make me look bad if you leave early."

"That'd be ill reward for your help, I admit. I don't suppose you've got a deck of cards or anything?"

She shook her head and walked around the left side of the chair. Mal sidestepped around to the other side.

She tilted her head to one side and smiled at him. "Scared the missus will find out?"

Mal shook his head. "No—there's no missus. Well, there might be. Anyways, she's not exactly . . . around."

"Saving yourself for someone, then?"

For Inara? She was probably in her shuttle at this very moment reviewing a list of potential clients. He laughed uncomfortably. "Not much point of that. Let's just say that my last few encounters threw me a little hard."

"All the more reason to get right back on the horse," she asserted firmly. She reached out and took his hand. She held it tight while she stepped around the chair and slid her free hand up his chest and under his suspender. "Be a sport," she murmured. "You could be the high point of my whole month. I promise just one ride around the meadow and then I'll take you back to the barn."

He looked into her eyes: they promised nothing—no attachments, no complications, just good humor and healthy lust. Simple. Of course, it could all be an act: chances were pretty good that Jayne had slipped her extra money to give the captain special treatment. Those inviting eyes might be no different from the eyes Inara showed her wealthy clients, making them feel wanted and respected. All lies. All empty posturing. Playin' parts. 'Course, he wasn't exactly in the market for a meaningful relationship right now. For all he knew, he was a married man—a married man with feelings for a fancy whore who was planning on leaving him.

At least this girl didn't look like she was likely to be in any gunfights within the next day or so.

Hell, simple looked pretty darned attractive.

He relaxed. "If we don't waste time with a saddle, we might have time for two turns round the meadow."


gou pì bullshit
hao fine
jiazhèngjing prude
tāmāde damn, fuck