Disclaimer: Firefly & Characters aren't mine. Money sure as heck isn't mine either (gorramit!). My heart is just dancing in their 'verse for a little while.

Exchanging Words - 7

Beaumonde had one sprawling City; residents' only restriction was vigorously enforced. There was an Information Area, where corporate big wigs from the Core assessed the possibilities of sponsoring settlers to the border worlds. Beaumonde City and the Information Area was invitation only. Inara was always welcome. She mentioned a suite she kept there, parties she held and the people who attended. Kaylee had longed to see it, but never asked for fear Inara would be embarrassed to deny her.

Otherwise, the world was like any other not-quite-a-border planet. There were two large docking areas where markets sprawled to entice the traveler with rare treats. There were pockets of settlers that had been restless for a better life than where they'd come from. Enterprising businessmen with licenses blued by official ink and stamps declaring taxes paid, if you didn't look to close. Some large ranchers did well, most just about fed their families and supported tiny one-shop towns.

Couple nasty viruses lurked on Beaumonde. The number of immunization packets you could afford to barter measured wealth. Those without a boost, indentured themselves in exchange, begged at the charity doors, built up immunities or died. The Scrap King had a safe with a stockpile of immunizations. Only one person in the 'verse, besides the King, knew the combination to his safe and they didn't reside on Beaumonde. Not a one of his five wives, fourteen children or eight, at last count, grandchildren knew it, or cared to. Knowing such things could get a body dead.

King Feron, as the scrap man anointed his forced-to-lay-down-arms self after the war, was squatty; a shiny toothed, hairy man with a booming voice. He was able to tally a bill while guzzling a jug, arguing with a clerk and re-enacting every battle fought by the Independents with bolts and corks. He didn't think much of folks, made no secret of that. Scrapping was delicate work. Most folks passed over the choicest scrap not just because they were greedy but cause they were turnip brained backbirths.

The Scrap King's dominion was a seven hundred acre salvage yard surrounded by manned laser cannons and enough voltage to char a horse to bones for swishing a tail too close to the thirty foot high fencing. The route through was marked with signposts and bunkers where caretakers lived. Those folks, mostly retired scrappers and their young learning the trade, were not just guarding the merchandise they were tending the profit in treasure discarded. Cattle and sheep were run amongst the parts. Chickens and geese and grain grew with vegetables and tough hardwoods kept the birds from nesting in the engine parts. The Scrap King's sustained near to fourteen hundred families and assorted drifters that wandered in and out when they were hungry or near booster time.

King Feron loved Kaylee and cottoned to Mal cause of his Independent affiliations. Jayne was allowed in the compound cause he amused the King. Kaylee once said there must be more to Jayne cause King Feron enjoyed him so.

Wash and Zoe, when they came to Beaumonde, had a little hideaway they snuck off to. Once or twice a year, no one saw them planet side until an hour before they broke atmo. Jayne tried to follow them once, got as far as some scraggily trees and a stream. Zoe blindsided him, left him bare assed naked without even a toothpick for self-defense. Jayne respected their privacy ever after.

Monty was not as amusing as Jayne, loveable as Kaylee or tolerable as Mal. King Feron would rather feed the man to Reavers than sit at a table with him, but Monty took up the cause, wore the coat, fought the battles. King Feron wouldn't deny him. Course, didn't pay Monty even half what his scavenging was worth either. Which, Mal explained to the Shepherd, was probably why Monty had suggested they take the wreck. Kaylee could get three times what Monty could. The two percent off the top would still net Monty more, without risk.

"Probably going to take two days for trading and visiting. Might take more." Mal warned Book. "King Feron likes visiting. Kaylee can't resist pawing parts and bits. Jayne has to hear about every new weapon the King has cheated some bonehead out of. The Scrap King goes on a mite."

The Shepherd laughed. "Sounds like an interesting character."

Mal grinned, shoving his arms into his coat as they stood outside Serenity, "You're welcome to come along. No real risk here, City and Corp folks don't come out this way except to fly over, usual riff-raff in the market, nothing more. Mind you lock up tight at sunset and use the low voltage alarm like Wash showed you. Don't want no trouble to come callin. Simon's smart enough to do that, so you're welcome. King's a man of faith, might need the word refreshed a bit."

"Thank you, no." Book laughed as Kaylee drove out with the mule fully loaded. Jayne was squeezed in the cart, trailing behind, complaining about her driving.

"Quit your belly-aching." Mal shouted, "I'm driving."

"Shepherd, you comin with us?" Kaylee jumped over to the passenger seat.

"No, I'm working on a new recipe." He stepped back.

"There's a fresh market over by that red tent." Kaylee pointed to the marketplace on the other side of the docking spaces. "Mr. He, has a green striped canopy, grows respectable sized vegetables and he don't dye 'em. His cousin has fruit and spices. Don't go near Bailey's, she has bad scales and spits in the flour."

"Thank you, I'll be sure and check it out." Book nodded.

Mal leaned forward, "You got coin?"

"Some."

"Kaylee, dig in the purse." Mal tossed a bag in her lap, "Shepherd if you don't mind shoppin, we'd be obliged. Save time and you do have a way with food that is actually edible."

"Be pleased to." Book took a stack of coins and nodded at Kaylee's grin. "Maybe find some strawberries."

"That'd be shiny. And chocolate for the doc and River. Makes the meds go down easier and gives Simon pleasure. Inara loves fresh salad, Wash is partial to-"

"Kaylee, the man has been eating at our table and heard every one of us moaning over what we don't got." Mal laughed. "If he can't recollect it, he's most likely dead."

"Good bartering!" Book called as they drove off.

River sat on Kaylee's chair, the umbrella wired to the chair offering her a shady spot. She was putting her boots on. "Shopping!"

Book looked to Simon who was smiling indulgently. Doctor held out his hands and said, "You try and stop her."

"Let me get the cart, River. Then we'll go." The Shepherd patted Simon's shoulder as he went inside.

"Come with us." River spoke across her shoulder.

"I'm going to sit here, read a book and do nothing. Not even sweat." Simon patted a slim book under his arm. "You trudge around sniffing fruit and vegetables."

"Lazy." She grinned.

"Brat."

"Not time for sleeping!" She jumped up, pointed at the sun.

Simon stepped forward, instantly concerned. He caught the glint in her eyes and groaned. "You are such a brat."

"Love you too." She waved him toward the chair and paced anxiously until the Shepherd returned with the cart and a broad rimmed straw hat for River.

"No one will think anything of that hat at a market." Book was mindful of the risks but not one to hide if there was no cause to.

"C'm'on." She hooked her hand through his arm and tugged him toward the market.

"Have fun!" Simon slid his tinted glasses on his face, opened his book and slouched comfortably into poetry. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been alone, peacefully alone.

--oooo—

King Feron's castle was actually an elaborate bunker built into a hillside. There were rumors that tunnels ran beneath the kingdom but he denied that. "Too gorram expensive to fortify tunnels and guard them."

There was a storefront above, but it was just for the tax collector and rubes. Inside the bunker, King Feron had a rich, welcoming home. Pillowed furnishings, carved tables, tapestries and subdued lighting that Inara would have coveted. His dining room could hold over two hundred, but most generally, he used a side table for family or company.

A discreet gentleman waited on the table, tended cups and just about every coin that dropped into the King's pocket. The King had bartered him from some City business for generator parts. Fess served out his indenture then chose to stay on, stockpiling his share of profit for a range of services rendered.

Monty's beard was near to his chest, covering most of his neck. Mal didn't resist givin him grief over the puny strands claiming to be a soup catcher, or the reason for it's pathetic state.

"Least ya didn't get put near to rest in your own gorram bunk." Jayne sniggered and reached across the table for a hunk of bread.

"Barbarian!" Fess hissed and snapped Jayne's shoulder with a towel.

Monty jumped on Jayne's comment with both boots; grinding the details from Jayne until Mal's jaws glowed red.

Monty and Mal continued to trade insults concerning their lack of discernment of a devil woman. Moving on to women with devilish skills they'd known or wished they'd known. Jayne could hold his own when it came to heroic tales of trim.

The liquor flowed. Jayne and Monty were having trouble holding on to their chairs before the night had settled on the sky. When they began singing bout naked women, Kaylee excused herself.

"Mind if I walk with you, Miz Kaylee?" King Feron asked. He shoved himself to his feet and buttoned his jacket across his pudgy center.

"You just wanna talk me down on that stabilizer." Kaylee laughed, flinging her poncho on. "Won't work."

"You coming Malcolm?" The scruffy King asked. His scarred lip curled in disgust as Monty and Jayne elbowed each other, cackling like hens.

"If I leave 'em they're likely to cremate themselves with your fat cigars." Mal leaned back in his chair, comfortably fed and relaxed. He did raise his brow at Kaylee, "That stabilizer cost us plenty to fetch. No one's likely to forget that."

"Won't be long." Feron was a foot shorter than Kaylee, but he offered his elbow like he was a giant and she a queen.

Kaylee was escorted up the main staircase to the 'garden.' King Feron had a son who welded and manipulated truly worthless scrap to beauty. His daughters wove winking lights around the sculptures. At night, it was like the stars had settled for a rest on the world. A round disk with thick cushions was centered in the garden. Kaylee never tired of sitting there, watching the lights reflected on metal twisted in ways it never would have occurred to her could be the least bit pleasing.

"I like the new one." She pointed. "Nevis has a fine touch with the torch."

"See that fin?" A chubby finger pointed, "That was the plating you found us last year. Nevis loved the warping and added the floppy parts from a bell he hacked up. When it rains, you can still hear the tones like the whole bell is hanging out here. Drives me nuts."

Kaylee laughed. "Maybe need to make a canopy for it. Nevis wouldn't want you more nuts than ya already are."

"True but the grand children would whine. That's worse. Guess I'll just have to live with it." King Feron sighed dramatically and flopped down next to Kaylee. "How's your folks?"

"They're doing fine. How's the business?" Kaylee swung her legs, watching the breeze shift the little lights around a whirly sculpture.

"Always profitable. When you gonna quit flyin with that ham fisted, blind man and come work for me? I'd pay better for your delicate touch and you'd have your own bird to fly, own crew to tend it." He swung his feet in cadence with hers.

Kaylee crossed her arms under her poncho. "You know I ain't interested, rather tend Serenity than anything else."

Distracted by the sight of a dozen men rushing toward his bunker, King Feron stood up. "Hmmm, Best see to this before I cheat ya out of that stabilizer."

He waddled his way through the garden, calling out to the tall man who turned to meet him. Kaylee shrugged, something was always going on here, it's why she enjoyed the visiting so. Snuggling into the cushion, she tucked her poncho closer and watched the lights dance around her. Nevis sure gave God a run for his money when it came to creating a 'verse from scrap.

--oooo—

A tall and slim man, wiry blond hair and well-tended working clothes, rested his rifle across his shoulder. He was easy in his stance but uncomfortable imparting information to King Feron. "Ty is back. He's hot and bothered and wandering through the treasure. We got the word out but I thought you'd want some extra men here."

Mal stepped from the shadow; hands extended so's not to disturb the healthy agitation of King Feron's men. "Trouble?"

"Just a boil on my ass." The King shrugged. "Set up the perimeter. Make sure there's extra firepower for escort inbound. Otherwise, let the bastard wander in the night. Less he's threatening folks or property, leave him be. Got me? No reason to blast his twisted brains out if'n we don't gotta. Man served, deserves better than this shit."

"Yes, sir." Slim said before issuing orders and moving off to do as he was bid.

"Best go fetch your gal." King Feron pointed with his chins toward the garden. "We'll be locking it down soon."

"I got people at the docks. If there's trouble brewing-"

"If there's trouble, it'll all be here. Just taking precautions." Feron dismissed Mal's concern. "Kaylee's sitting out there on the stargazer seat. Best fetch her like I told you."

Mal frowned, feeling an itch crawling up his back.

"More'n enough room, Captain, nothing to change your plans." King Ferdon grinned like he held the secrets of the 'verse. Several women with small babes rushed by and down the stairs. He went to the top of the stairs and called down, "Get Fess to fix Captain Reynolds and his folks some rooms. Oh, and get some coffee going. I need those lazy ass boys passed out on my table sober. Yester-gorram-day!"

Mal didn't wait to hear the rest but went to find Kaylee. Another dozen women rushed through the garden, hushing and hurrying small children along. Some elderly men and a granny on a rolling cart followed them.

Kaylee's greeting faded away when she saw Mal's face. "What's wrong?"

"Got no idea, some trouble headin this way, King needs to lock it down. Come on."

Kaylee took his hand, hopping and then running to match his stride toward the bunker.

--oooo—

Kaylee was sitting on a sofa bouncing a fretful baby, squeezed in between several others doing the same. Men and women were scattered in the room, all the chairs at the table and the sofas and chairs edging the room were filled. More folks spilled out to the large hall and children ran up and down the steps, giggling and squealing. Jayne and Mal were standing behind the sofa, not pleased. Monty was at the large table, sympathetic but not concerned.

King Feron swirled his coffee in a chipped mug. "Ty's served well but got a mite touched in the head. We all came home, tails 'tween our legs and sick to our souls at what'd been done whilst we was gone. Took the best of Beaumonde for themselves, gorram purple bellies, left nothing but the gravel and gullies for the rest of us. His wife, Rosa, couldn't barter a booster. Died whilst we was gone. Ty couldn't accept it. Convinced she's hiding out or taken prisoner or worse. He chased rumors of missing women till he liked to starved to death paying for info instead of eating."

"Seen it happen." Monty shook his head, gulping more coffee before holding his mug out to Fess for a refill. "Can't tell 'em no different."

"No, you can't." Feron nodded, "Few years back, Ty hired on as a gun and hit the black chasing slavers. Helped save a couple boatloads of folks hauled off to some outer moon. But, they say his crew got ambushed and he went off looking for Rosa again."

"His family ever own property out this way?" Mal asked.

An elderly man spoke from the table without bothering to turn around. "His great grand pap held papers on land out near the thruster field. Ran some wire-haired sheep in the gravel and weeds till he dropped dead of some mutant virus. Back when the boosters didn't come so regular."

"Reckon he's headin for home?" Jayne lifted a small boy's hand off his sidearm and growled at him: "Scat!"

Little boy shot away, running for the doorway to boast of his bravery.

"Good as guess as any." The King shrugged and shooed children from under the table. "Merry, get these people bedded down in the South Dorm. All these children running about, one of 'em's liable to shoot us all in the ass. Fess, settle our guests."

Monty stood up with the King. "Reckon you need some help? I go to bed now, will just wake up with a sick head later. No use to you then. Got a couple good men with me if you need 'em."

"You can stand watch at the West Cannon if you've a mind to." King Feron fingered his chins. "Send your spare men to the North Volts. You send the boys at the Cannon down for a feed and sleep – say six hours?"

"Fine by me. Jayne, feel like watching the sunrise and telling me more about ole Mal kissed near dead?" Monty swigged the last of his coffee and shrugged into his coat.

"Might as well. So gorram much coffee in me now I'd float out of the bed." Jayne looked to Mal, not moving till he was certain there weren't other orders to follow.

"You got everything locked up?" Mal asked.

"Do." Jayne nodded.

Mal nodded. "Let me know when you get back. No call to get involved in this business. We did the job, get paid and get out. We can visit another time."

"Fine with me." Jayne squeezed behind Mal, jerked to a stop by Kaylee's hand fisting in his jacket.

"You be careful." She told him.

Jayne slapped at her hand and flexed his shoulders, "I'm always careful. Others that ain't."

Mal glared over his shoulder at Jayne. The man moved right smart, following after Monty and the King. Feron was telling them how to find the West Cannon and the password to shout to keep their brains from being splattered in the dirt.

Kaylee handed the baby to her mother, dismissing thanks. She used the edge of her damp poncho to wipe drool off her arm. Mal tossed a handkerchief into her lap, surprising a laugh from Kaylee.

"You finished trading?" Mal tugged on the poncho so Kaylee could wriggle free.

"All but item number two and sundry shopping," She wiped at her middle. The damp had seeped clear through.

"If you'll come with me, I'll show you to your suite." Fess appeared like a shadow at Mal's side. "I will get this cleaned for you Miz Kaylee."

" 'Fraid that baby was drippin from his drawers." Kaylee took the poncho from Mal who jerked it to arm's length as if it were toxic waste.

They followed Fess into the hall and paused to wish King Feron a restful night.

"It was lovely evening." Kaylee held the offensive poncho wadded to her stomach, covering the stain on her coveralls. "Food so good and pleasant company, King Feron. Don't forget to tell Nevis how beautiful I thought his new art is."

King Feron kissed her cheek and Kaylee blushed when his nose wrinkled over the poncho.

"Hospitality in the Core is puny compared to yours, King Feron." Mal offered his hand and the King took it.

"True." Feron snickered. "I'm sorry not to be able to offer you but a humble suite, in the East Wing, but you'll be comfortable."

"Just be sure and send Jayne to me when he gets back. Want to finish business before this rogue takes a chunk of you and Nevis turns our profit into art." Mal nodded.

"If you prefer, Captain Reynolds, Kaylee and I could conclude business now. There's nothing needing my immediate attention." King Feron's face drew deep, his chins rippling with offense.

"Morning, after breakfast, will be soon enough, King Feron." Mal assured the chubby potentate.

"I'll have Jayne sent to you as soon as I know you've had breakfast, then. Show them the way, Fess." King Feron winked at Kaylee.

"What's all that about? You two cookin up crime?" Kaylee asked.

"Hush, bâobèi." Mal whispered, watching the heat wash over her neck and up her face with a pleasure he'd forgotten – or thought he had.

--oooo—

"Oh my….!" Kaylee squealed and planted herself a foot inside the door with her mouth hanging open. Her voice dropped to a disappointed whisper. "Oh – this is a mistake."

The 'suite' was more than Kaylee could take in, though her wide eyes and open mouth tried. There were soft, colorful furnishings, a low table with tapers wavering from the air breezing in when the door opened. Goblets attended red wine in a cut glass carafe, enhancing the flickering light. Beyond the large room, a bathroom, Zoe would slaughter a dozen or more to soak in, was shrouded in a fog of steam. A spicy scent mingled with Kaylee's shock.

"A mistake." She shook her head, closed her eyes against such opulence and spun around to confront the truth. She crashed into Mal who steadied her. Confused, she noted the door was closed and Mal was grinning at her.

"No mistake." He kissed her forehead before taking the poncho from her clutches. "Go jump in the water. Fess put your things in there. I'll toss these out to him." He ran a finger under her collar.

Kaylee nodded but didn't move, just stared at Mal like she'd never seen him before. Mal brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. His entire face clenched for a moment, then relaxed.

"There's a room across the hall." His voice reached her heart, soothing, promising more than passion, giving respect. "I can take it, easy as you say."

"No!" Kaylee grabbed his hand, gripped it tight between both of hers. "No, it's just … a … a surprise. A shiny, shiny surprise. Honest. This, it's … No. Please. Don't go."

Mal kissed first one hand, then the other before wriggling his free. The pleasure her babbling gave him was warmer than the steam. His gentle smile wrapped around her; caught her breath. He stepped back, his voice a husk of itself, "Go on; enjoy the bath."

"Are ya trying to not say I smell like yesterday's diapers?" Kaylee backed away, stumbled against a rocking chair and jumped half a foot.

Mal gripped his chest, "Would I say such a thing?"

Relief flooded Kaylee. She turned toward the bathroom, spun back around and startled Mal with her bold words. "If I didn't smell like yesterday's diapers, would you -?"

Mal tossed the poncho aside and marched to her. She didn't retreat or advance, but waited. When he touched her shoulder, she laced her arms around him. Meeting his surety with defiance of her fears, they found her stench unnoticeable. Both of them forgot Fess waiting in the hall until the door chime interrupted them.

"Uh, Cap'n?" Kaylee breathed into his ear.

"Hmm?" Mal's lips were trailing her collarbone.

"Hmm?" She sighed.

The door chimed again and Kaylee gasped, "Oh, it's just the door."

Mal drew a short distance away, cupping her face between his hands. No smile, he searched her face, concern creased his forehead. Kaylee forgot what she'd been thinking when his thumb teased her lower lip.

"There's a bath," she breathed, joy radiating like a sun. "Wanna share?"

"Good plan." Mal followed her. With the heel of his boot, he kicked the door closed.

Hours later, Kaylee crept from the suite, not quite closing the door. She was draped in a short satin robe with a tie trailing lopsidedly down her left leg. It was a toss up who was more startled, her or Fess. Her clothing and poncho landed on the floor when Fess launched from the chair he'd propped against the wall. His book followed her clothes with a thud.

Kaylee bent to gather the clothing, but Fess waved her away. "Please, Miz Kaylee, I'll take care of this."

"What are you doing out here?" Kaylee hissed.

"King Feron assigned me to ensure you remained undisturbed by that barbarian." Fess blushed redder than the wine on the low table.

Kaylee shoved damp hair from her face and whispered, "It wasn't a trick was it? King Feron - he didn't-"

Fess draped her poncho and coveralls over his arm, like the finest linen to hide his smile. He patted her shoulder awkwardly, "Captain Reynolds asked for the best room in the palace and one closet for himself, just in case."

"I think - someone else can have the closet, Fess. Night." Kaylee danced like a blossom waving in a summer breeze. She threw the locking bolt and the King's right hand man went to deposit the stinking clothes with the laundry man.