Disclaimer: Firefly names and characters are not my property and I'm not making a single bit of coin on this little piece. This is simply pure enjoyment.

Rating: G

Spoilers: a little for Our Mrs. Reynolds, but nothing serious.

Setting: sometime before Inara has left and the BDM

A Good Man

It's not like he wanted his life to be complicated. Far from it. All he wanted was a nice easy-peasy job where everything went according to plan. Trouble was, never seemed to do just that.

Except for this one.

Load up the cargo, store it tight for eight days then drop it on Cobalt. Didn't seem no different to any other job he'd had the last few months. He'd hoped it would all turn out for the best with as little fuss as was necessary. That life had been bout normal only furthered his anxiety that something terrible was brewing somewhere that would somehow involve him, his ship and the Feds.

The pick up went smooth. The contact was calm and gave them the point easy like. He and Zoe went for it with the mule, grabbed it and were off the moon before anyone could say Happy Uni-Day!

The trip went smooth. Weren't nobody yelling at one another. Weren't no fights and his baby was working best she'd been in months. Kaylee told him so. Simon worked his days away looking at pictures and such of Sister Tam, concocting and mixing til his heart's content. She'd been showing good signs, too, so much so that she was rewarded with the occasional walk in the black she loved so. The Preacher went about his reading and observing of the Good Book, helping out the good Doc where ever he could. Zoe and Wash were two peas in a pod given that it was the anniversary of their wedding vows and all. Even Jayne had been remarkably stable with only the sporadic crude comment on some such silliness as only Jayne could comment on.

Mal Reynolds thought on all of this as Serenity made contact with Cobalt. The fuzzy image floated across the vid informing him of where to set down and who to contact about shipping. Flicking the wave off, Mal leaned straightened himself, arms crossed over his chest. This were too easy.

The thought gnawed at him while he called Wash to make the landing. Grew into a worry when he met the aforementioned contact. Became downright paranoia when the money was exchanged and pleasantries ended. The cargo was being removed from his baby. Weren't nothing to worry on now.

"Sir?" Zoe's voice interrupted.

"Hmm?" The captain's face was momentarily startled then regained its serious composure.

His first mate's eyebrow arched. "You gonna stand there with that money dangling just so." She nodded the direction of her captain's outstretched hand, the small leather bag heavy with coins.

With a quick grab, Mal pocketed the money. "Right you are." He focussed on the crew now taking the material away, looking so busy like. He watched what looked to be a foreman barking instructions to the workers, workers he now noticed with heads down and backs bent. Forget it, he told himself. Put yourself into someone else's affairs and you just get your nose shot off. And I'm plum good with where my nose sits, thank-you very much.

When the cargo was very nearly unloaded, a small woman came to him. She couldn't look him in the eye.

"We are nearly done, sir," her small voice said.

"That I can plainly see."

The woman's eyes blinked as though stunned.

"Yes, so you are," Mal quickly added, not realising how harsh his words were taken.

"We will finish the transaction?"

"Way I figure it," Mal answered, "that deals been done." He felt the coin bag brushing against his chest as it sat in his inside coat pocket.

The woman looked carefully to the foreman then returned her attention to her feet that seemed to occupy most of her vision. "Mistress Vandelson requires-"

"-that you get personal pleasure," the foreman finished. He came up to the pair and grabbed the bare neck of the little woman, holding her secure. "Here." He shoved her into Mal's confused body, instinctively grabbing the woman to keep her from falling.

"Whoa, now hold on here." He backed a step. "Don't recall getting that piece of information from the contact."

"Standard procedure," the rough man said. "Keeps the customers happy and willing to do business with Vandelson again."

Mal felt the stare of Zoe burn through the back of his head, his own mind seeing images of a redhead acting all meek and claiming customs he had no notion of.

"Please inform Vandelson," Mal began with his charming smile, "that she's sure to get my business once again. Ain't had a deal go so right in a mighty long time." He touched his hand to his head and headed up the ramp. "Y'all take care now and we'll be seein each other real soon." He punched the button for shutting the cargo doors, his smile still plastered to his face.

After the doors were sealed, he turned to find Zoe in his path, her face expressionless, but Mal read her loud and clear. "What did you want me to do? Bed her?"

Zoe said nothing.

Mal began fidgeting, her gaze unnerving him. "Been there, done that with the meek-y and such." Special layers of hell came vividly to mind.

Zoe broke into a wide grin and turned quick on her heel. "You are a good man, Sir."

Mal's face filled with concern with his arms hanging limply at his sides. "Now whad'ya gotta go and say that for. How's a captain supposed to maintain a reputation with words like those?" He walked towards Zoe's retreating form and raised an accusing finger. "Take it back. I'm a mean old man, gorram it."

End