I'm baaa-aaack! Bonnie's all rested and recuperated, so now it's time to start posting again. Chapters will appear every Saturday morning, like before. I have another nine fluffle entries, so this will continue for a bit over two months, after which there will probably be a short break before I start publishing a new story (assuming I can finish it - I've been struggling with the final chapter for about six months now!)
Untitled Harry Potter/Firefly Crossover
Summary: The crew of the Serenity is offered a lot of credits if they can steal an ancient trunk that came from Earth-That-Was. A trunk with seven locks that no one is able to open, at least until River tries. Once again Mal finds himself saddled with an unexpected passenger with a mysterious past and dangerous skills.
Crossover: Harry Potter/Firefly
Pairing: Holly Potter/River Tam
A/N: I enjoyed Firefly a lot, and I don't think there are nearly enough HP/Firefly crossovers. "Browncoat, Green Eyes" by nonjon is not only the best, but a standout story overall which everyone should read. I have no idea where I'd take this story, though I think it has potential. I'd just have to try to not be too influenced by nonjon's fic.
I debated where exactly to locate this in the Firefly timeline, and for now at least I'm going to place it post-Miranda. I could change that, but the events surrounding Miranda are so big that it would seem wrong to ignore them.
As always, thanks to Bonnie for not only reading this and improving on the original, but also for her help in developing the plot so far.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; JK Rowling does. I don't own Firefly; Joss Whedon does.
Chapter 01 - Woke Up On the Wrong Side of the Verse
Firefly-Class Transport Serenity, Somewhere in the Black.
"So, what do you think is in there, Zoë?"
"I thought we weren't supposed to ask such questions," Simon commented, though he didn't bother to hide his own interest. "Something about not getting too nosy about the details of any job?"
Kaylee scowled at the doctor, but Zoë stepped in to agree. "Simon's right. We were paid to steal it and then hand it over, not to ask questions about what's inside."
"But aren't you curious?" Kaylee half-whined. "I mean, it's a relic from Earth-That-Was!"
"It's just a trunk," Jayne said dismissively. "It's probably filled with mouldy old clothes and books and shit."
"Or it might be rare Earth-That-Was treasure," Kaylee countered. "Why else would it be locked up so tight, if it weren't full of what's shiny?"
"Or rare Earth-That-Was porn!" Inara interjected, her eyes dancing.
Jayne perked up at that. "Good point — let's see what's inside."
"Jayne, no—!" Zoë exclaimed, but it was too late. Jayne was already in front of the trunk, yanking and kicking it in an attempt to get it open.
"Hey, hey, careful!" Simon warned as he rushed over. "If you damage it, we won't get paid."
"I just wanted to see what the big deal was," Jayne said a bit petulantly, but he allowed himself to be pulled back. "It's Kaylee's fault, anyway. She's the one who got me all hot and bothered."
"Hey!" Kaylee objected.
"Settle down, everyone!" came the captain's voice from the upper level of the cargo hold.
"Any sign of pursuit?" Zoë asked.
"Nothing," Mal replied as he walked down to join them. "We got away clean. Now, does anyone want to tell me what's going on here?" Everyone tried talking at once, creating a cacophony of excuses, until Mal whistled loudly and held his hands up high. "One at a time!"
"Inara tried to trick me into reading ancient porn," Jayne said quickly, before anyone else could get him into trouble.
"As if you'd ever need to be tricked into that," Inara muttered as Kaylee snickered.
Mal scowled at all three impartially until Kaylee got control of herself and admitted, "We were just curious about what was in this old trunk. Artifacts from Earth-That-Was may be rare, but it's still odd that we're getting paid so much for this one object. It made me wonder if our client knows what's in there, and if the contents are worth even more than our fee. I just thought, you know, it might be a good idea to know exactly what it is that we're transporting."
Mal's expression softened a bit, then he pushed his way forward to stand in front of the trunk himself. He'd seen it before, of course, when they first stole it, but that was when it was just a target for a job. Now it was a mystery, and he didn't like mysteries.
Not on his ship, at any rate.
He stared for several long moments at the four strange beasts that had been carved into the lid, all surrounding the initials HJP, before he finally spoke.
"I must confess, I'm a mite curious about it myself," Mal said slowly. "I've been curious ever since we were offered the job, in fact. I've been hoping that the reason we're being paid so much is because our client is just another collector of rare artifacts who has more money than sense."
"No offense, Captain, but since when does our luck run that way?" Simon asked.
"Point taken — and don't think that hasn't occurred to me. But as long as this thing doesn't pose any danger to my ship or crew, I don't think we have cause to break into it. We were paid to deliver it intact, not looted. We'll be extra cautious when we make the exchange, and if everything goes well, we'll walk away with enough credits to make a real difference in our lives. Get some much needed repairs done, even back pay." Mal paused for a moment, then turned around to face his crew. "We need this job, people. As bad as our situation was before Miranda, it's a hundred times worse now. I've been begging and scraping to find work for us, but this was the first bite I got in over a month, and I don't want anything to happen to the goods that might give our client a reason to back out of the deal."
"The captain's right," Zoë said firmly. "Everybody get back to your jobs. We have to take the long way around to get to our client, so we'll be flying for nearly two weeks on the far edge of the Rim. This will be a good time to do cleaning and repairs."
Everyone grumbled as they made their way out of the cargo hold and back to their stations or bunks. Mal was the last to leave, but before he walked through the hatch something prickled at the back of his neck, causing him to turn around. There, kneeling in front of the trunk, was River. He hadn't seen her in the cargo hold before, but she was there now and appeared to be gently caressing the carvings.
"You, too, little lady," he called back, drawing her attention. "Don't be trying to open that thing."
"I was just curious," she said in a small voice.
"Well, you know what they say curiosity did to the cat," he pointed out before leaving, trusting that she'd follow his orders.
"I also know what satisfaction did," she said to the empty hold as she reluctantly walked away.
Every night for the next week, while the rest of the crew slept, River returned to the cargo hold and sat in front of the strange trunk. She watched it. She touched it. She traced the carvings and metal hardware.
She was drawn to the trunk in a way that she couldn't understand. Part of it was simply the fact that she, like the rest of the crew, wanted to solve the mystery of what was inside. She didn't like things being hidden from her.
That was only a small part of it, though. A much bigger part was that something like a whisper had been growing in the back of her mind. She hated having whispers in her mind. Or any other voices, for that matter. And this one was all the more infuriating because she couldn't quite catch what it was saying. Yet at the same time, it had a lyrical quality that made her feel light, even happy. It also definitely made her calmer and more relaxed — feelings which she'd had precious little experience of ever since the Alliance had begun experimenting on her.
She wanted more of that. She wanted to understand the whispers. She wanted to solve the mystery. And to do that, she needed to figure out how to open the trunk before it was turned over to the client. Somehow she knew with a deep, abiding certainty that if she didn't get it open before the meeting with the client, she'd forever lose her best chance at peace and happiness.
So she spent several hours a night, every night, sitting with the trunk. After a week of this, she tired of simply touching the surface of the problem and decided to go a bit deeper. Since she couldn't open the trunk, the only way to achieve this was through the lock. Or rather, its locks, for it had seven keyholes, all aligned in a row. It was one of the trunk's many mysteries.
River leaned in close so she could peer into one of the old-fashioned keyholes, but she couldn't see anything at all. Not even a powerful light managed to pierce its black depths: the hole seemed to drive away all attempts to understand it. So she moved on to the second, then the third, until finally she had looked into all of them, and in the end was none the wiser than when she'd started. In sheer frustration, she jammed her pinky into the final keyhole and was surprised to find that it could accommodate her tiniest finger, if only barely. Now if she could just wiggle it around—
"Ow!" she cried, jumping to her feet and stepping back as she cradled her hand. There was a large drop of blood on her pinky where something had jabbed her, breaking the skin. Suddenly there was a thrumming that shook the deck plating, and she could hear deep, metallic clanks coming from within the trunk.
It sounded like locks opening.
"Ooops?" she said softly.
Mal was of course the first to come running in, anxious about anything that threatened his ship. He looked ridiculous standing there with a gun in his hand, wearing nothing but boxers and boots. River suppressed a giggle.
The rest of the crew followed close on his heels, most still in their sleepwear, and Jayne was having a terrible time not looking too closely at what Inara had on. Or didn't have on, depending on how one looked at it. River wondered briefly why Mal didn't seem to notice, but then she saw the look on his face and remembered that his ship might be in danger.
Curiously, Inara kept stealing glances at Mal, though it didn't seem to be his face which drew her attention.
"What happened — what's going on?" Zoë asked, but Mal didn't say anything right away. He just stared at River with hard, unblinking eyes.
Unable to stand the silence, she finally said in a small voice, "Sorry?"
"What did I tell you about being too curious?" Mal demanded. Abruptly his eyes narrowed. "And what are you doing down here? Aren't you supposed to be at the helm?"
"I took her watch," Zoë broke in to say. Mal frowned at her, only then seeming to notice that she was fully dressed. "Couldn't sleep," she finished with a shrug, not looking him in the eye.
"Uh, Captain?"
"Not now, Doc, I'm busy being angry," Mal retorted, turning back to River and brandishing a finger at her. "I distinctly remember instructing the crew — which you are a part of, at least for the present — not to bother that trunk."
"Captain, I think—" Kaylee tried to interject.
"I said, not now!" Mal growled. "Look, River, I like you, and you're becoming a right passable pilot, but as captain of this boat I can't afford to have the crew disobey my direct orders like that."
"Mal!" Zoë yelled, finally getting her captain's attention.
"What?" he snapped, turning to face his second, who pointed behind him.
"The trunk, Captain — it's open."
He turned and saw that the lid was upright. He spun back to face River. "You opened it, too? How? And why?"
"No, Captain, that's what we've been trying to tell you," Simon interrupted again. "It was closed when we all came in, but it opened while you were talking to River. By itself."
Mal whirled around to face the trunk, which now looked a whole lot more menacing than it had before, and after a moment everyone took a step back as Mal hefted his gun and cursed, "Tah mah duh hwoon dahn!"
"Well, it's open now — we should check it out," Zoë said matter-of-factly.
"Are you sure about that?" Kaylee asked, sounding a lot less curious than she had been before. "Maybe we should just leave it alone."
"Zoë's right," Mal said. "I didn't want to get involved with whatever's in there, but now that it's open, we need to learn if it's a danger to us. We're a good week from the nearest port, so we're in deep trouble if there's anything in there that means us harm."
Jayne and Zoë stepped forward to follow Mal, which was when River noticed that they were also armed. Guns didn't normally bother her, but she had the strangest feeling that shooting would be a bad idea.
"OK, this just took a turn for the weird," Mal announced as he stood over the trunk.
"Weird doesn't even begin to describe it, sir," Zoë said.
"I ain't goin' down in there," Jayne insisted, shaking his head. "That just ain't natural."
River pushed forward and discovered what had the others so upset. Instead of peering into a wooden box that was four feet long, three feet wide, and three feet deep, they were looking down into what appeared to be a massive stone room with a wooden ladder coming up to the trunk's edge. Mal stuck out one foot and nudged the trunk. It scraped noisily against the deck plating, and as they watched, the stone room moved as well.
"I'm tellin' ya, that just ain't natural."
"Which is even more of a reason to check it out," Mal shot back.
"I'll take point, sir," Zoë announced as she climbed over the lip of the trunk and moved down the ladder, using one hand to steady herself and the other to hold her pistol at the ready.
"I'll cover," Jayne said. "Watch the far corner — it's darkest and might have something hiding in it."
"I'm watching."
Once at the bottom, Zoë stepped to the side and crouched, her pistol held out in front of her while Mal followed her down. River immediately stepped up to go as well, but Simon grabbed her arm. "No, you shouldn't—"
"But I have to," she insisted. "It's my fault it opened and... and there's something here I need to see. I'm sure of it."
"Let her come, Doc," Mal called back up. "Her skills might do us well in close quarters, and if she can tell us more about what's going on here, I want to hear it."
Simon reluctantly let his hand drop, and River jumped over the side, landing on the floor beside the ladder even before Mal reached the bottom. "I will never get used to that," he muttered.
Zoë continued providing cover from the base of the ladder while Mal and River stepped forward towards the center of the room. As soon as they moved, torches on all four walls flared to life, causing Zoë and Mal to stop and tense in anticipation.
River, though, headed straight for the far corner, which was now revealed to contain a bed with a body on it. Upon reaching the side of the bed, she found herself staring at a young, red-headed woman who looked to be about her own age.
"River!" Mal hissed as he rushed to her side. "Don't wander off al—" He stopped when he saw what River was looking at and slowly lowered his gun. "Gorramit, not again!" he said half despairingly as he waved Zoë over.
"Sir?" Zoë said. "Oh, my..."
"What do you know about this, River?"
"I don't know anything, Captain," she insisted.
"But there's more going on here with you than mere curiosity, isn't there?" Mal asked while Zoë began checking the woman's vitals.
"I heard something. Or maybe... felt something?" River shrugged. "I can't explain it, I've felt drawn to the trunk ever since we got it."
Mal shook his head. "Talk to me, Zoë."
"She's alive, sir, but that's all I can tell. She seems to be asleep."
"Call the doc and have him get his kit. Maybe Jayne, too, if he's willing. We need to get her into the med-bay. We'll use the winch if the doc thinks she needs to be kept stable, otherwise have Jayne just toss her over a shoulder."
"Right, Captain. I'll tell Jayne she's pretty — maybe that will get him moving."
While Zoë went up the ladder and Mal investigated the rest of the bare room, River noticed that on the bedside table was a small, old-looking book. She leaned over to read the title: The Tales of Beedle the Bard. She made a split-second decision to grab the book and slip it under her shirt, hiding it just in time before Mal returned.
"I can't find anything else in here, just the girl, the bed, and the table. Do you sense or see anything dangerous about her?"
River frowned for a moment, then answered, "No, not from her. At least, not if we aren't a danger to her first, I think."
"Good enough for now," Mal said. "I know better than to tell you to leave, but I expect you'll come up on your own when your brother takes her to the med-bay, right?"
She gave him a quick smile and nod before returning her gaze to the strange redhead. There was something about her that made River not want to look away, which both annoyed and intrigued her.
"What's this about a pretty girl?" Jayne said as he walked up behind Simon. He paused for a moment to look at her while Simon performed a quick exam, then he turned to the captain. "You know, Mal, if we keep picking up women like this, we're gonna have to redefine the sorts of services we hire out for."
"Jayne, stop being a pervert and help me with her," Simon said. "She doesn't have any obvious injuries, so you should be able to carry her."
Jayne grunted and lifted her up in a fireman's carry before returning to the ship.
"What's the word, Doc?" Mal asked.
"I don't see anything wrong with her, but I'll have to make a full exam with all my equipment."
"You do that, and tell me as soon as you know anything. And I do mean anything. There's something incredibly not right about all this."
"That's an understatement," Simon muttered as he followed Jayne.
In a few minutes, they'd all left, even River, and the empty room went dark as the torches died all on their own.
The trip through the black proceeded, and the crew continued to go about their duties. All except River, who spent every free minute either in the med-bay watching over their new passenger or reading from the book she'd... borrowed. Sometimes she did both, if there was no one around to ask questions about where she'd gotten it. The book fascinated her almost as much as the woman - it was filled with stories that read like fairy tales, but most were unlike any fairy tale she'd ever heard or read before.
"Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump" was the funniest by far, but her favorite was "The Tale of the Three Brothers." It was gruesome and disturbing, but she also found it strangely compelling. It was the final story, though, which she kept coming back to, reading it over and over again. "The Mistress and the Draught of Living Death" was the only story in the book which seemed vaguely familiar, and it revolved around a woman who was betrayed by an enemy she thought had become an ally. This enemy snuck a poison into her food, a poison which caused her to fall into an eternal sleep. The only cure for her condition was a kiss — and not just any kiss, but true love's first kiss, because only love had the power to subdue death.
She thought it very odd that the story didn't have an ending.
"What are we going to do with her?" she heard Zoë whisper to Mal one evening as the second week of travel was drawing to a close. They were standing just outside the med-bay, but she could hear them as well as if they were standing next to her. She'd never bothered to tell anyone just how good her hearing really was, nor did she intend to. She learned far too much when people underestimated her.
"I don't rightly know," Mal replied. "A lot depends on whether the doc can wake her before we arrive for the exchange."
"He doesn't have any better idea on what's wrong with her, then?"
"Nope. She just seems to be asleep, according to him. Nothing he's tried has woken her up, though. It's like she's dead, for all that she reacts to drugs or stimulation." River cocked her head in thought as he went on, "He said there are a few more cocktails he can try, but he's reluctant due to the dangers they can pose."
"What if the buyer was specifically interested in her?" Zoë asked. "What if the buyer knew she was in that trunk and expects to find her when he opens it?"
River could hear the captain's voice grow heated, though she wasn't paying quite so much attention to him now. "You know I don't approve of slavery. I won't stick my neck out and risk my crew to fight slavers, but I sure as hell won't participate, either. Alive or dead, awake or asleep, she's a human being, and I won't sell her to anyone. I'll turn over the trunk for the agreed-upon fee, but that's it. If the buyer decides to take offense over that, then I guess we'll just have to disagree."
"Good," Zoë responded. "I'll make sure the others know, just in case the buyer puts up a fight."
The voices faded away and River renewed her focus on the woman lying in the bed in front of her. She was a mystery that River couldn't get out of her head. Even when she was back in her bunk, sleeping, she seemed to continually dream about her. She never remembered any of the details of those dreams, but she could clearly remember the long, flowing red hair and green eyes. There were also weird sensations that she seemed to remember — sensations that she didn't understand, but she knew she wanted more.
Slowly she stood and leaned over the bed, looking down at the woman's face. "Should I?" she whispered. "It seems so silly, and yet..."
She didn't know if it was right or wrong, nor did she care. She just felt the urge to act, much like when she had stuck her finger in the keyhole, and act she did. Without another thought, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the woman's, trying to give her a kiss like the one the story said was required to wake the mistress. She had no idea if waking the mysterious woman was something she could do, but she had no doubt that it was something she wanted to do.
Little did she know it at the time, but with magic that sort of desire was the most important ingredient.
River allowed the kiss to linger, and much to her surprise she soon felt herself being kissed back. Before she could pull away, arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her down into a tight embrace which enhanced the strange yet familiar sensations that were setting fire to nerves all up and down her body.
She had a pretty good idea now what she and the woman had been doing in her dreams.
Eventually the kiss ended and she pulled back, just enough so she could focus on the woman's face again. For the first time, she looked into the green eyes when they were actively looking back at her, and River found herself entranced by how they danced and seemed to peer deep into her.
"Well, hello, gorgeous," the woman said in a voice rough with disuse. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Not that I didn't enjoy that, but... mind telling me who you are and where I am?"
"River!"
Simon's shout made River jump back in surprise, which would have been fine had the woman simply let go. Instead, she held on and was dragged off the bed, which in turn pulled River down to the floor, where the two of them ended up in a tangled heap.
"River?" Simon said again, this time sounding almost quizzical as he came around the bed and looked down at the two.
"Doc?" Mal shouted as he charged in, closely followed by Zoë and Jayne.
"It looks like my sister managed to wake our passenger," he reported blandly, causing Mal to shake his head in exasperation. Again.
"I told you we shoulda put a leash on her," Jayne muttered. "Maybe a bell, too."
"Alright, alright, quiet everyone," Mal shouted, annoyed at how big of a production this had become. He'd wanted to interrogate their unexpected passenger alone in the med-bay, but the rest of the crew was anxious to see and talk to her, too. It wasn't every day that illegal cargo turned out to contain a mysterious and beautiful woman. Well, in all honesty it was close to becoming routine for them, which was also starting to annoy him, but still...
"Let me see if I've got this straight, Miss, uh..."
"Potter," she answered. "But you can call me Holly."
"Right, Holly," Mal continued. "You were born on Earth-That-Was back in the year 1981. Which makes you five... five hundred..."
"Five hundred thirty-six years old," River supplied promptly.
"Right, that's what I was about to say."
"And you don't look a day over twenty!" Kaylee broke in. Mal turned and scowled at Kaylee, only to see Inara nodding happily in agreement.
"Not the point!" Mal said, then he paused before turning back to Holly. "Well, not entirely the point, at any rate. According to you, the reason you not only survived, but are looking so well-preserved, is that you were put in some sort of weird stasis that has kept you alive all this time. And inside a trunk, no less. Then River here did something to wake you up."
"I kissed her," River said simply.
"Right," Mal said. "I'm still debating whether to believe that or not."
"I can see it happening," Jayne said, grinning. "Maybe if you ask, they'll do it again."
"That's not the point, either," Mal growled. "The point is how something like a kiss could wake a body even after all the doc's efforts went nowhere." He turned back to look at Holly. "I'm sure you can understand if I find all that a mite hard to believe."
Holly nodded. "I sympathize. I mean, look at it from my perspective. I just found out that it's the twenty-sixth century, that I've been asleep for about five hundred years, that the Earth I grew up on is now an uninhabitable wasteland, and I'm travelling on a spaceship. All that is pretty unbelievable to me."
"She's got a point," Kaylee offered. "I'm not sure I'd believe it."
"Except we know that what we told her is the truth," Mal insisted, though without much heat. He could see her point, honestly he could, but it muddied the waters of what had been a clear-cut case of Holly being crazy, and he didn't need that right now. Not on top of all the other headaches that this supposedly straightforward job was giving him.
He might have said that this couldn't get any worse, but he'd learned not to tempt fate like that anymore.
"Do you have anything that would support your story?" Zoë asked. "Any sort of evidence that would help us understand and believe you?"
Holly shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I have no idea what would convince you. I might have something in my trunk, though. I always kept it stocked for emergencies. If whoever did this to me couldn't get into the other compartments, then all my stuff should still be there. Maybe I have some photos that would work?"
Mal closed his eyes briefly and sighed. So much for not tempting fate. "You're claiming that's your trunk?" he asked as his crew exchanged dark looks. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Zoë's hand moved ever so slightly towards her pistol.
"Yes, it's a one-of-a-kind, seven-compartment special," Holly answered. "Used to belong to a grumpy old man named Moody, but he left it to me in his will. He'd laugh his ass off if he knew someone locked me in there for five centuries. Then he'd do something really painful to me, I'm sure." She looked around at all the faces, which now bore slightly less friendly expressions. "Is there a problem?"
"Maybe," Mal said. "It's just that, well, the work we take isn't always exactly legal. Sometimes it's necessary to skirt around the edges of the law in order to make a living out here."
"What the captain's trying so hard not to say is that we're thieves and smugglers," Jayne added helpfully, causing Mal to scowl.
"Speak for yourself!" Inara objected. "I, at least, have a respectable career." Mal's scowl only deepened — she would have to bring that up.
"I won't judge," Holly said, holding up a hand. "I've been accused of bending the rules a few times myself."
Well, at least there was that. He smiled without mirth. "The last job we were hired to do was to steal a rare artifact that came from Earth-That-Was."
"A really old trunk, I take it?" Holly asked, and Mal nodded. "And I'm guessing that my claiming ownership of it would be a bit... inconvenient?"
"More than a bit," he admitted. "I won't bore you with our tale of woe, but we've had an especially hard time finding work recently. In fact, before this job came along we were just a dog's hair away from being grounded, and the fee for delivering that trunk will keep us flying for quite a while."
Holly nodded. "I can understand that. While I object in principle to bargaining for getting my own property back, I do owe you for freeing me. Who knows how long I would have stayed in there if River hadn't opened it?" She turned and smiled at River, who smiled shyly back. "Maybe I have something I can exchange that will make up for your loss and compensate you for your time, either in goods or in services?"
Mal's expression turned skeptical. "I can't imagine what you could do to help us. If your story is true, then you don't exactly have experience crewing a ship in the black, but I'll at least consider any suggestions. Better would be something we can sell for credits or gold. Or even just trade for fuel, parts, or food. You might have some artifacts from Earth-That-Was which would work. If they're in good shape, they can fetch some coin from willing collectors, though it will take time to find and reach them. Time we might not have."
"There's also our reputation to consider," Zoë added. "If we make a deal with you and welsh on our client, people might stop trusting and hiring us. No matter what you offer us now, it might not be worth it in the long run."
"I might be able to help with that, too," Holly replied. "I can be very persuasive when I need to be, so perhaps I can convince your buyer to keep your reputation intact." She paused to think for a moment, then added, "In fact, I really ought to talk to them anyway and find out why they wanted my trunk so badly."
"That sounds pretty fair," River said softly.
Mal gave her a hard look, but she refused to turn away. He then surveyed the rest of his crew to gauge their reactions. Simon and Kaylee appeared hopeful, which was no surprise — they were too soft to make hard choices. Jayne seemed conflicted, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know why. Zoë wore a neutral expression and appeared to be relaxed, but he saw how tense her muscles were, and noted that her hand was just a little closer to her pistol.
Hands on hips, Mal looked away for a long moment, then resolutely returned his gaze to his newest passenger. "If you can make it so that this trip isn't a loss while also keeping our reputation whole, then you can keep your trunk," he said finally. "And so long as you're on this ship, we'll protect it and you as if you were one of us. I can't make a fairer offer than that. We may sometimes make our living from thieving, but we don't like to steal from them's that be needing. Not if we can help it, at least."
"It's a deal. I'll just need to go through my stuff to see what I have."
"Later," Simon interjected as he stepped forward. "First I need to do a complete medical workup on you to see what's changed now that you're awake. You'll probably need to eat, too. You have gone five centuries without a meal, after all."
"Later, then," Mal said with a nod while the crew filed out. "I'll see if I can slow us down and delay the meeting by a day or two, maybe give us a little more time to work something out."
"I appreciate it, Captain," Holly replied, before turning to the doctor. "I guess I'm all yours, Doc, but I have to warn you - I'm not very good about sticking around in hospital beds..."
Mal paused one last moment at the doorway and frowned. Instead of choosing to leave with everyone else, River had instead moved to the other side of Holly's bed.
That was something he'd have to keep an eye on.