Fan Fiction Name: Firesong.

Chapter Name: Home

Blurb: A year after the Miranda Wave, Jonah, Tomas, and rest of the crew of the Firesong makes their way of life through collecting bounty. Some spoilers ahead!

Disclaimer: Can you guess what will be said here? If you guessed "Firefly is not mine", you'd be right. OC's galore here! See Authors notes below.

Reader Challenge: Find the non BDM movie references and get a prize! These prizes vary, but sometimes include nothing, an all expense paid trip to your house, a mental pat on the back, or even 100,000 credits, paid in full plus interest once humanity leaves the solar system.

Start

"How much longer until we get back to the Firesong?" Tomas asked impatiently from his seat. Jonah sighed slightly in frustration. Tomas was always so gorram impatient. Once a job was done, he was often finicky and bored out of his mind until he was back to the ship. He had asked that question in particular 3 times in the last 30 minutes.

"Stop it, Tomas. We got five more minutes 'till we get to the Firesong, so hold your horses and stop complaining. That is an order, dong ma," Jonah says, his attention on controlling the rather touchy controls on the hovercraft. Ever since…

"Ugh," said the disgusted sounding Mordecai, his nose wrinkling as he turns away from the still unconscious bounty next to him.

"Mordy…" Jonah began.

"Mordecai."

"…is there a problem?"

"Nothing. It's just that Gordy needs a bath really bad."

"If you're willing to sponge him down, go right ahead."

A series of strangled gasps and garbled words from Mordecai give Jonah a strange sense of satisfaction. The young man was always a bit snobbish in his ways, and it gave Jonah a little sickly-gained relief to get him to sputter on like that.

"Hey, Jonah," came an unexpectedly lustful tone from Tomas. Jonah turns to see Tomas eyeing the controls, his eyes almost glazed over with lust and a devilish grin on his face.

"Can I…" Tomas begins, but is cut off by horrified responses from his colleagues.

"No, Tomas!"

"Don't let that feng le pilot touch the hovers controls!"

Tomas' expression went from lust to disappointment almost immediately, his voice piping up, "Why not? I am the pilot, after all…"

"…and you damn near killed us the first time you went out on it!" came Jonahs horror filled finish.

"Hey now! It wasn't that bad!"

"Did you just say 'it wasn't that bad'? You almost wrecked the hover!" Mordecai yelled from his seat as the hover whizzed by an open market. Tomas shot Mordecai a sharp look before turning back to Jonah. "Come on, Jonah! That was six months ago. I'll be okay. I'm not some snot-nosed kid who can't tell his head from his pi gu. Besides, I'm the pilot. I should…"

Jonah lifts his right hand and holds up a single finger, which immediately silences Tomas. "You're a damn good pilot, but you tend to get a bit reckless. Even in the war, you would do stupid stuff. This is just another example. I will pilot the hover. Dong ma?"

"Yes, sir," was Tomas' small response.

Jonah turned back to the road but say his attention was for naught. They were on the docks and his ship, his home, was in clear view.

The Firesong was an old ship, a Stockholm Class Mid Bulk. The largest of a family of ships that included reliable ships like the small personnel ship class Kenku and the second largest ship style known as Firefly, it shared many physical traits with its smaller brethren. The same basic body structure was shared between the three of them, with the only major differences lying in the Stockholm itself: the cockpit was not as high-arching as the smaller Firefly, the jump drive was cone-shaped rather than abdomen-appearing, and the Stockholm also had two stationary high-power engines in the back. It was old and a bit of a mess, but still mattered.

"No place like home," Jonah said quietly to himself as he carefully flew the hover into the slightly barren cargo hold, where he brought the hover to its bay port. The front latch hooked securely to the front while the main body of the craft, sinking without power, sinks into the bay slides that keep the machine level when not in use. Jonah is the first to jump off, allowing Tomas and Mordecai to get Gordy off of the hover as he made his way to a nearby comm. terminal.

"Grace, ya there?" Jonah asks as he hears Tomas and Mordecai grunting and groaning as they get Gordy to a secured seat, locking him in place in the series of bare seats.

The comm. terminal crackles a bit before the voice of Grace responds. "I'm here. Y'all get on okay?"

"We did, mei mei. We're gonna get paid today. Johansen back?"

"Yeah. Hey, is there something wrong with Duke?"

"There a lot of things wrong with the old man."

A snort is heard through the comm. before Grace starts again, " Seriously. When I contacted him, he sounded kind of freaked."

Jonahs brow furrows for a moment before his eyes widen. "Ta ma de!"

"What is it? Do you need me to get him?"

"The walls are closing in! The walls are closing in!" came a yell from the direction of the common area.

"Nope. Found him," Jonah responds as he quickly flips the comm. off and turns to face the common room. Seconds later, a short, balding man with wild, unkempt hair where he still had some left came running out of the common room, his face full of terror. Mordecai jumps up and tries to get in the way but is bowled over by the old man as he makes his way at full speed towards the open air lock. Mordecai gets up, cursing under his breath, and immediately takes off after the fleeing man.

"Another attack of claustrophobia?" was Tomas's words from Gordys chair as he made the last restraints secure.

"Yep. They keep gettin' worse, too," Jonah responded as he reached for the comm. again. "Johansen we need help in the cargo bay. Get down here." Once finished he put the comm. back and went to work, knowing Johansen would not respond. About thirty seconds, the tromp of combat boots signaled Johansens arrival.

"Good. Johansen, I need you to…gah!" Jonah yelps as he averts his eyes. Except for a rather large crucifix, Johansen was shirtless.

"Jonah, something wr…ack!" Tomas asked before turning himself and immediately averting his own eyes.

"What?" came Johansens small inquiry.

"You don't have a shirt," Jonah said matter-of-factly as he managed to avoid Johansens bare chest.

"And?"

"You don't have anything under it."

Johansen just shrugs.

"Go get a shirt on, gorramit!"

Johansen leaves, Jonah turning to Tomas with a mixture of shock and confusion on his face. "I've told that damn woman to not do that, and still she does it!"

"Usually can't tell, but her damn bare breasts give away the fact that shes sporting different chromosomes then the men. Oh, and whats the count at now?" Tomas asks, his face curling into a small smile.

"Lemme see…it's at eleven now."

"I'm still holding my bet at fifteen."

"And I'm still standing at twenty." Jonah replies as hard breathing marks the return of both Mordecai and Duke. Mordecais face is a rather interesting shade of red while Dukes is a deep crimson. "Sorry…about…that…Jonah," Duke says between heavy breaths. His thinning gray hair, usually unkempt, is now even messier.

"Its okay, Duke. I know how ya get," Jonah replied, almost apologetically as Tomas stands up from the final restraints on Gordy.

"He has two wounds: a graze on his arm and a large wound in his leg. Do what you can," Tomas said as he moved away, moving towards the doorway to the common room.

"I will get to business," Dukes says. He turns towards the doctors medlab in the bay when he turns to Jonah. "After we're done here, may I go see to my 'buisness'?" he asks with a overly-suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

"We'll be on Beaumonde in fives hours time. You can get your trim there," Jonah says as he shakes his head. For an old man, Duke sure was a horny dog.

"Shiny," was Dukes response as he started towards the medlab.

"Oh, Duke?" Tomas calls from the common room. Duke stops and turns as Tomas sticks his head into the bay. "Johansen was topless again."

Duke turns an interesting puce color as he stalks to the medlab. Jonah and Tomas exchange knowing glances before Tomas heads towards the cockpit.

Tomas made his way to the cockpit, his second home on the ship. He may be a damn good gun hand, but he belonged on the deck of a ship. He always enjoyed flying, had since he was younger. But when they went on jobs, he was the muscle. Big guys, no matter their intelligence, are always seen as muscle. These flew around Tomas' mind as he made his way to the cockpit, not noticing the slight footsteps behind him.

Tomas sits down in the pilots seat when he finally realizes someone was behind him. Before he can react, two slender arms snake around the front of his chest as the person behind embraces him. "Gorramit, Grace! You know you shouldn't do that," Tomas says as he relaxes as the arms retract and a hand rests on his shoulder.

" 'Gorram it'? Ain't you gentlemen from the Core not supposed to cuss?" came the soft, humored response of Grace.

"I may be from Ariel, but I am far from a gentleman," Tomas says back as he turns to face Grace.

Tomas is immediately drawn to her eyes. They are a deep green, with flecks of brown and red mixed in. Her lips and hair, in their fullness and luster, call his attention immediately afterward. He doesn't go any lower. Gentleman or not, it just isn't respectful to stare at a womans chest, no matter how…perfect.

"You guys have any trouble with Gordy?" Grace asks, knocking Tomas out of his thoughts.

"Other than him weighing a ton, no. Johansen put a hole in his leg when he tried to run," Tomas answered.

"Great. A hole in the leg, Duke goin' nuts…"

"…and Johansen was topless again," Tomas ended, his face stretching into a grin.

Grace begins giggling, before saying, "Again! Jeeze, what is that, the tenth time she's been topless since she came on?"

"Eleventh, actually. And Duke missed it again."

Both of them begin laughing heartily, Grace nearly doubled over before the laughter dies down. After a few seconds, the laughter dies and Grace gets an odd look in her eyes.

"You guys have a bet going, right? I want in," Grace said, her face twisted into a mischievous grin.

"O..kay? What will you bet?"

"I wanna put it on thirteen. That's always been my number."

"I got that. What will you bet?"

"Well…" Grace started as she leaned in closer, her eyes on his. Tomas' heart starts thundering as she begins to lean in.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

Tomas jumps as he turns to face Jonah. "N…not at all. There was…I mean…uh…Grace wants in on our bet." Jonah is standing at the cockpit door, a serious look on his face and his arms crossed across his chest.

"Hm. Well, I want us in the air in thirty minutes. Get us to Beaumonde in one piece. We'll get another hit there," Jonah says seriously.

"Something wrong, Jonah?" Grace asks sweetly, acting like something hadn't happened.

"Nope. But I wanna get going. I feel like we're carrying around the Necronomicon for kicks expecting nothing will happen," Jonah replies.

"Necro-what?"

Jonah gives Grace a look of utter disbelief before turning and leaving without a word. Graces gaze goes from her brothers retreating back to Tomas, whos' attention seems preoccupied by some switches on the helm.

"What? What'd I say?"

End

Authors Notes: Ha ha ha! The second chapter is up and ready! The guy I'm working with is working on the pictures as we speak, so once everything is done we'll have character drawings for everyone and a showing of what the Firesong actually looks like. I'd be hoping to see some reviews between now and the next chap. See ya soon.