Chapter 2: 20 Hungry Men

Kaylee made a satisfied humming sound which was almost musical. If she was of the feline species, the sound would have been a purr.

"So gentle." She hummed softly.

Simon turned his head and adored the girl in his arms. "Who is?" He said with the tight-lipped smile and glassy-eyed warm gaze of a man on the verge of sleeping.

"You are, silly, who do you think? I aint talkin' 'bout Jayne, that's for shore."

The doctor laughed, "No I suppose not. The only thing that's soft about that man is his wit."

Kaylee giggled and nestled her head deeper into her lover, brushing her tangled hair over his face and neck.

"I thought Doctors were usually – y'know – rough."

"Rough?"

"Yeah. Well … not that I've ever bedded another doctor, but…"

"Oh, you mean their bedside manner."

"Yeah." Kaylee said, still smiling. "Guess I found me the only gentle-pawed Doctor in the 'verse."

Simon kissed her gently on the forehead, which only served to broaden her grin. There was a pause.

"You know … I don't … have to …"

"Oh no!" Kaylee protested, turning to look at him in the eyes. "I like it."

"Okay." Simon said, unsure of himself. "But just so you know I can be…"

"I'm sure you can." She said, and kissed him on the lips.

He smiled again. "They also say Doctors usually have cold hands, don't they?"

Kaylee blinked and slithered back down into her previous position under the blankets. There was a long pause, and the Doctor frowned.

"Kaylee… do I have cold hands?"

"Not 'specially …"

"I do, don't I?"

"They're freezing. Sorry." She said earnestly, slipping an arm around his pale torso. "But I kinda like it."

"You do?" Simon said, seemingly troubled by the realization that his hands were cold.

"I do. It's like … a gentle rain of snowflakes gently caressing my bare skin."

"Poetic." His eyes slowly narrowed mischievously. "But I'm sure I can find a way to warm them up."

He twisted and slipped his hands under the covers, grinning as Kaylee squealed at the sudden shock of the cold hands as they latched onto her. Slipping backwards out of the bed she grabbed a pillow and launched a retaliation attack of her own.

---

The sound of playful laughter filled the ship, reverberating through the metal decks and conduits, right up to the cockpit.

"Well at least someone's enjoying themself."

"Themselves" River corrected, as she steered the ship through the atmosphere, adjusting her trajectory to lessen the stress on the hull.

"Listen, little albertros, I've already had one English lesson this week, I don't need 'nother."

River turned her head and cocked it to the side slightly. "You said it true, Malcolm. You were there for business."

Mal opened and closed his mouth, perplexed as ever at how the girl could pluck thoughts right out of his mind.

"Just – you just keep your eye on the sky, Miss."

River stared wistfully at the clouds as they caressed the windscreen and dispersed around the sides of the ship. The stars were just appearing from beyond the ever thinning blanket of white.

"The sky doesn't need watching. It watches back. It knows."

"I'm glad we understand each other." Mal said, plotting a course on the navmap while he pretended to listen to River's ramblings.

He sat to the right of the cockpit, where Wash had sat day after day for the past few years. Where Wash had died. His dinosaurs were still there, tacked firmly to the console; they hadn't even moved when the Reaver's harpoon had crashed through the windscreen and …

"He didn't feel it." River said softly.

Mal nodded. He had liked Wash, they all had. Wash had been the only member of the crew that everyone had liked, and now he was gone. Eccentric, funny Wash; the pacifist; the Leaf on the Wind.

"No. But others did." The Captain muttered, completing his course adjustments.

River peered over to her left at her own navpanel and shook her head vehemently. Mal looked up and frowned in confusion.

"Wrong way. Can't go that way – not right – not there."

"Woman, just what are you prattling on about now? Do you know the trade routes of this part of the 'verse? Do you know all the places that the Alliance patrol, waiting for ships like us? Do you?"

"Yes."

Mal swallowed. "Oh … well … then you know that we can't go any other way!"

"Don't know that. That's a quandary. I can't know what doesn't be."

"I aint gonna talk about this. Between my instruments and some crazy witch's hunch, there aint no contest." Mal said, gritting his teeth.

"Go your way and there'll be blood."

Mal hesitated. River had saved them on several occasions now, but he was still a sceptic when it came to her gift.

"Listen albatross, I've seen you read a fellow's mind, kill a room full o' Reavers, and all manner of other wacky fun, but I'm fair sure that fortune tellin' is a might beyond your wave range. So you do what your told, and earn your keep as the pilot, but not the Captain. That's my job." Mal rose and started for the exit, but turned and pointed at the girl. "Even if I get us all shuffled, that's still my job."

River waited a few moments until she was sure he was gone, and then switched the controls onto autopilot and slid over to the navpanel, pressing buttons as quickly as Wash ever would have been able.

"Quandary." She said obstinately.

---

"Mal!" Jayne called as he heard footsteps approaching the dining area.

Mal stepped through the door and grimaced, rubbing the base of his neck with his left hand. Zoe was sitting at the table with her feet hitched up on another chair. She tilted her head as the Captain glanced her way, her expression saying 'Sir, I have no idea what's going on.'

"What?"

"All the food's gone!" Jayne twanged.

"We had some?"

"Yeah!" Jayne seemed aggravated.

"Which you didn't eat all of?"

"There was a gorram mule's weight last time I was in here."

Mal walked past and headed for the staircase down into the cargo bay, cursing in Mandarin as he went. The catwalk shuddered as it rhythmically clanked under the man's heavy boots, and his stomping drew the attention of several bystanders.

"Mal!" Inara called as the Captain passed near to the entrance to her shuttle.

He turned and his eyes narrowed slowly in anger at the sight of two of the twenty immigrants seemingly attempting to enter Inara's shuttle. One had his hand placed firmly over the entrance, stopping Inara from running, while his gaunt face was bowed close to her ear, no doubt whispering either sweet nothings or threats; though they were mostly one and the same thing with low-life's like him, Mal decided.

"They want to "visit" me." Inara said, pushing the other man firmly away.

Mal reached the men in two strides, caught one by the shoulder and yanked him around. With a closed fist and a sweeping swipe, he landed a solid punch between his eyes, causing him to stumble and buckle. But before the man could collapse, Mal reached out and grabbed the man's shirt, yanking him fully off his feet and soaring over the catwalk railings. The man's friend charged at the Captain, but was neither quick enough nor angry enough to block the elbow that crunched downward into his diaphragm, or the following knee strike as it thumped hard against his groin.

Even as the groaning started, Mal turned to the herd and said, "Now I weren't jokin' when I said touch nothing but the walls and the floor. Our companion is neither of those, so I suggest you keep your grubby mitts off that which you can't afford. Sure, eating my food is one thing, but there aint no way you could have gone through all of my supplies in little over an hour, is there?" He pulled free his pistol and fired into the air, hoping as he did so that the bullet didn't ricochet back down into the skull of one of their guests.

"Now I'm thinking one of you malnourished thieves has a good portion of that missing food in one of your bags. So …" he continued pointing his gun down at the crowd in general, "You've got ten seconds to pour out the contents of those satchels, 'fore I start taking back my stolen produce in body parts. A man's diǎo can fetch a pretty penny on the black market if it's severed right." He cocked his gun, which made a threatening click, "And if you're lucky, I'll sever them right."

Tong looked at his men, seemingly nervous. "The man who was stupid enough to do this better come forward pretty quick." He said; his stern tone even more chilling than the Captain's.

"One… two … I'm not foolin' around now. I'd just as soon kill you all and keep the Triad's payment for my wasted ammo."

The shepherd edged towards his bag. Slowly.

"Three … four…"

The shepherd bent to his bag, opening it up. None of the other men followed suit, but they seemed to edge towards them slightly.

"Five … why are ya'll bein' so shy? What you keeping' in those satchels o' yours? Dirty magazines? Six…"

Tong's hand slipped into his bag. A trickle of sweat formed at the corner of his hair-line.

"We don't have to open our bags up for you, Captain!" One of the oriental men shouted. He seemed unafraid to the point of defiance.

"Seven … true. You could take a bullet instead."

"Or … the man who stole the good Captain's food could come forward." Tong insisted.

"Nine."

One of the men turned his bag over, spilling cans and packets of various nutritional supplements over the floor. There was a scratched and worn machete knife amidst the mess.

Mal slipped his gun back in its holster and smiled without baring his teeth. "Now there's a good thief."

The thief held up his hands, seemingly worried that the tyrannical Captain might just shoot him anyway.

The shepherd released his gun, and breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled his hand free of the bag.

---

"Just what is a stowaway doin' with a big old knife like that anyways?" Kaylee said as Zoe took her seat the kitchen table, having just locked the man away in the storage room.

"It's a dangerous kinda life." She replied, shrugging.

"No more dangerous than the captain of your ride finding a machete in your bag. He's just lucky that Capn's a nice man."

Zoe cocked her eyebrow.

"Well … an honourable man… sometimes." She said with a sweet smile.

"Not sure you could call our line of work honourable." Zoe observed.

There was an awkward silence for thirty or more seconds as the two women sat and stared at the various inanimate objects about the room.

Kaylee studied Zoe for a moment, and finally seemed to get the courage to say something: "Zoe … I never got to say what with things going so quickly and all. I liked Wash a lot. He made me laugh, and I liked him."

Zoe stared at Kaylee, her eyes sad but relentless in her attempt not to show any emotion. Finally she looked away and took a deep breath.

"I didn't. 'Least not at first." She explained. "He was a cocky bèndàn, and he would undress me with his eyes every time I was in the room. Also…" She gestured to her top lip. "I hated his lip walrus. Made him look like a used ship salesman."

Kaylee giggled, "Don't get me started on used ship salesmen … I could go on…"

"But … the man made me laugh. What can I say? I'm a sucker for funny guys, and Wash had this carefree way about him that let him turn any situation into a joke. We could be facing down death herself and he would say something that would make everything seem …"

"Trivial?"

Zoe stared Kaylee in the eyes and a flicker of emotion scattered across the muscles of her face. Like a shooting star; if Kaylee hadn't been looking so deeply at the time, she was sure she would have missed it.

"Yeah. That's it exactly. I needed some triviality, and a reason to laugh. He was that reason. Hell he was the reason I got out of bed in the morning."

"Or stayed in it." Kaylee grinned devilishly.

Zoe smiled too, "Or that." She chuckled slightly.

"Cap'n didn't like him either at first, I hear?"

Zoe shook her head, "Actually, he did. The Captain doesn't much express his likes, but I could tell."

"So why did he forbid you to marry him?"

"I guess … 'cos it complicates things. Lose one of us and I s'pose he figured he'd loose both of us."

There was a moment of quiet, and then Kaylee said: "And did he?"

Zoe stared off into space. "No." She said confidently. "Just one."

"Zoe…" Kaylee reached over the table and grabbed the woman's hand. "It's okay to grieve. T'aint natural not to; t'aint healthy neither."

Zoe locked eyes with her again. "Somewhere – maybe heaven, maybe hell, maybe on the great wheel – Wash is still mocking and jesting, still laughing and making light of it all. Wash didn't much like grieving … not because it was unmanly … but because it meant that life had beat him. I'm willing to bet that when death came for my husband, he laughed in her face and called her a xiānxì shānyáng's qīzi. So no, Kaylee, I aint grieving."

Kaylee squeezed her friend's hand and gave her a sad smile.