A/N Good golly, Mal is such a sour puss! It never occurred to me just how prone he is with bickering with his crew (or anybody for that matter). Gah. It'll be nice to take a breather from his mood swings and transition over to some River scenes in the next chapter. Her writing will probably be infinitely harder; but at least I won't leave her head feeling angry all the time. Just...scrambled. And possibly scared. But that's okay, because fear is the number one motivator for storytelling, yes? That and fluff...But I probably won't instigate my romance elements until a bit later...Gotta have build up to keep it consistent and believable, yes? :D

Again, please don't be afraid to Read and Review.

Key word here is Review: I REALLY WANT TO AVOID DISCREPANCIES SO THAT I CAN KEEP YOU ALL INTERESTED AND NOT SEEM LIKE AN INCOMPETENT FANFIC WRITER! kthxbai.

I hope you're all enjoying so far. :D I promise, we'll get the crew out of the economic mud and into some action soon. Just wanted to establish just how serious a debacle they're in with the restraints the Alliance has chained them in.

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine. Please don't sue, as I'm not really worth suing.

Nothing spurs a man quite like his appetite. And in Jayne Cobb's case, that applied for almost any and every circumstance. He hadn't had a lick of natural food since the last time they were planet side. Being in the Black was great and all, but nothing truly stood a chance against his love for food. Or women. Or shooting things. Or money. Mostly the latter, though. He had a huge hankering for money with almost every breath he took.

But foremost of appetites that was on his mind at the moment, was the smell of delicious cheese, imported au naturale from Persephone's urban centralized cities. Gorram it all, if he didn't have a crew he was forced (and paid) to take care of, then he'd've swiped that purchased dairy all for himself. He couldn't wait to get back to Serenity and begin feasting. Now if he had some crackers to go along with them...Mmm, he definitely planned to be raiding the Galley tonight; granted that feng le moonbrain didn't bother tainting the food one way or another. He was right certain that it was within her capacity to do such a thing. She already crushed a box of crackers the last time the crew was stuck on Persephone, back when Badger wanted the crew to do a cattle run. Hell, she done tore up the infirmary plenty between then and now too. She was a walking hazard. Why in the guai was Mal so bent on keepin' her aboard?

Jayne was about to growl at the thought, but his stomach beat him to it. Obeying his appetite's demands, Jayne reached over the back of the Mule and snagged a newly purchased mango from their sack of groceries.

"Hey, hey...Jayne! Save some of that for everyone else! We haven't even reached the docks yet." Wash chastised. A glimmer of jealousy sparked behind his eyes. Obtaining fresh food was a tough commodity these days.

"Aw, Wash. We bought enough fer everyone to enjoy their share. I'm just eatin' mine sooner rather th'n later."

Wash turned his eyes back towards the road, steering the Mule with ease down the busy dirt roads. "Well, think you could spare me a peach, then? I can't stand just simply smelling fruits while you're stuffing your face with them."

Jayne grunted and obliged, reaching back once more to grab a (smallish) peach for Wash. Jayne handed it over, and Wash failed to hide his disappointment. "Ah, peachy...You saved the best one for me. I appreciate your generosity, big guy."

"Hey, you weren't specific as to size," Jayne justified. " 'Sides, I'm sure Zoe wouldn't appreciate a pudgier version of you from overeating, anyhow."

"I hardly think a single fruit constitutes for a dramatic weight gain," Wash retorted. He took a bite out of the peach anyway. "Besides, my wife loves seeing me healthy."

"Wash?" Zoe's voice piped up from their communicators.

"Speak of the devil," Wash greeted, setting his peach to his side on the seat so he had an open hand to press the button to respond. "Hello, gorgeous."

"You about back yet? Mal's getting' awful tetchy."

Wash's expression darkened for a microsecond. After a clench of his jaw, he responded brightly "We're near approaching the docks, Zo. We'll only be a few more minutes." Then he clicked off.

Jayne piped up, sucking the lingering flavor the mango from the inside of his cheeks, "What's his rush anyhow?"

Wash shrugged, his eyes still dark. "Got me beat. It's just his way, I suppose...His usual, brooding, domineering way." Wash's hands tightened on the steering yoke, his knuckles whitening at the force of his clutch.

Jayne noted Wash's sudden tension, and sneered. His first instinct was to deride Wash for his over reaction, but frankly, he kind of agreed with him. So Jayne just turned his gaze the other direction and took another bite out of his mango. Mal did have a sort of superiority complex; and it wasn't simply because he was captain. He seemed to have this constant, driving need for control and perfection. Of course, considering how often their plans tended to go south, it sort of justified Mal's routine displays of hairy conniptions. Responsibility had a knack for doing that to a man.

Owning up to the responsibility of every action for the benefit of the crew was probably the one thing that kept Jayne from ever trying to assume command. Responsibility wasn't exactly his strongest trait. Never had the motivation to be consistent with it. He was better suited to the "shoot first, ask questions later" tactic. Impulsive, I think is what 'Nara calls it, Jayne contemplated, sounding out the word carefully in his mind. Sounded like his kind of word.

The remainder of their drive was more or less quiet, aside from the hum of the Mule's aging engines. At least Wash successfully managed to mask his irked mood with his usual good humor. Market stalls were still set up as kiosks alongside the bazaar. Though the stream of traffic didn't seem to slow down much, the docks themselves, in contrast, were surprisingly vacant of parked ships. "Business seems to be runnin' a mite slow these days, dontcha think?" Jayne noted.

"I would agree. I'm guessing that folks are probably being pestered by the Feds for illegal docking or shipment or something. If my assumption is right, that may be why Mal is in such a hurry for us to skedaddle." Serenity's metal exterior winked in the sunlight as they approached her parking slot. Shepherd and Simon were seen at the rear of Serenity, leaning against the door of the airlock as the mule rolled its way on board. "Welcome back, gentlemen." Shepherd acknowledged. Simon stepped aside to provide space for the incoming vehicle.

Wash gave a friendly wave as he passed by, and parked the mule. He gave Shepherd a sideways grin. "Well, I wouldn't go so far as to use 'gentlemen' in the plural sense. Jayne has never exactly been of the 'gentle' variety."

"Damn straight," Jayne concurred. "But I definitely qualify in the 'manly' category." Jayne clapped Wash good naturedly on the shoulder and jumped off the mule, tossing the remainder of his mango at Simon.

Simon caught it instinctively, surprised by the sudden throw. "Gee, you shouldn't have," he remarked, disgusted. He glanced around the bay. "Is it really so hard for you to just dump this in a wastebasket? Or...somewhere that's not at me?"

Jayne ignored Simon. He never had time for the square-toed prig and his sarcasm. To Wash he said, "C'mon, help me lug the supplies offa this motorized piece-a-junk."

Wash took offense to Jayne's discourteous comment regarding the Mule. He was about to protest the remark, but the sound of Kaylee's voice beat him to it.

"Hey, don't you be harrassin' my machinery!" she objected, appearing from the far wall in the upper catwalk. "Mule's still got some life in him yet." Jayne glanced up at her as she scaled down the grated stairs. Even when she was chastising, she still managed to somehow sound cheerful. Kaylee turned her attention to Wash. "Didja manage to get those fuel cells I asked for?"

"Wouldn't have forgotten them, Kaylee." Wash reassured her as he hoisted himself down from the driver's seat. "Can't exactly fly without them in stock."

"Shiny! Think you could hand 'em over to me afore you start completely unloadin'? Mal is really goading for us to get off planet."

"What's got his knickers in a twist?" Jayne asked, hoping Kaylee might have a better idea than he. "It ain't like we's bein' zeroed in by Reavers or the Alliance. Hell, even the local Feds don't seem to be payin' us much mind hereabouts"

"Wages were scratched." Mal's voice resonated from the back of the cargo hold. "And we ain't got no jobs while we stationed here either."

Jayne twitched in surprise at Mal's unexpected entrance. Then he processed what Mal said. It clicked. Anger flashed in his eyes. "No wages?" Now he was pissed. "Are you tellin' me that that Xiabiàn tong Badger hornswaggled us again?"

"I'm tellin'," Mal confirmed.

"And you didn't do nothin' about it?" Jayne narrowed his eyes aggressively, stalking three paces closer to Mal. "Nah, I guess you didn't. Otherwise you wouldn't be here telling us we're in a pinch."

Mal situated himself in a more intimidating stance. "Jayne, I'm frankly not in the mood for your antics. I'm more likely to shoot you in the ankles than allow you to challenge my decisions like that at current. Or Ever. Dong ma?"

Jayne glared. "Yeah, yeah..." Pride withstanding, Jayne knew that it wasn't entirely Mal's fault that the earnings had suddenly slipped through their fingers again. Still, woulda been something of a comfort if Mal had at least beat the little man to a pulp for once. Learn him a lesson in business. Of course, that argument was an old adage that Jayne never won a bout in, given that Mal always argued that Badger's defenses would have wiped out Mal and his crew before they could even act on such hostility.

Kaylee lowered her gaze, uncomfortable with having to be present for yet another verbal joust. "I'm just gonna...finish fine tunin' the steamer." She mumbled. Silently, she went fishing through the bag of supplies, and grabbed what she needed. Simon awkwardly attempted to help, and followed her out as she made a quick escape from the escalating tension. Shepherd, having temporarily left the scene to sign off on the computerized placard, returned and closed the airlock door.

Mal continued, undeterred by the interruption, but kept his anger in check. "Badger got the goods he charged us for, and provided us at least a bit of pay to scrounge for budgeting until our next stop. We got enough food to last us the better part of a voyage, and we got enough fuel to tank up Serenity for a trip to Harvest moon, long as she don't attempt to fall apart again."

Wash raised his hand, leaning poised against the mule. "Any reason why you want me backtracking near Greenleaf territory? I hope you haven't forgotten that we did just pull a major heist on their Alliance export ships?"

"Export ships ain't nothin' like their patrol cruisers," Mal replied. "Only reason Badger was willing to pay us a smidge in the first place was because a scratch of missing supplies won't irk the Alliance much. Not when they can easily resupply on a planet as fertile as theirs. 'Specially with an even more fertile moon to orbit it nearby. We'll merely be a fly on the wall in comparison to other problems they'd be worried about."

"Strangely, I have a strong urgin' to remind you that we're currently housin' their 'bigger problems' . Way I see it, that don't change our pre-dic-a-ment much." Jayne volleyed back.

Mal clenched his jaw. "My decision is set. Serenity'll cope, and we'll bide by fine. Alliance still doesn't know that we have the Tams under their nose. And we'll have better luck finding job over at Harvest, since there've been no dry spells in their farming profit lately."

There was silence after that. No one was willing to argue on that particular point. And Simon, thankfully, wasn't in the room to be able bitch about it.

Mal considered the issue closed. "Wash, get us in the air. Zoe's got her in gear for you, ready for lift off."

Wash furrowed his brow line and pinched his fingers on the bridge of his nose, quieting his agitation. "Yes sir," he complied. "Does Inara know where we're headed?"

"I sent a wave to her shuttle. There was no response, so I left a message. I suspect she's still maintaining our...respectability. She'll catch up when she's able." Mal paused a beat, then put the discussion to full disclosure. "Shepherd, help Jayne put away those groceries. Wash, I'll see you at the bridge." Then at the turn of his heel, Mal vacated the room.

Jayne scowled as he reached over to scoop up the remaining sacks in the mule. So much for that midnight snack idea he had going. En route to Greenleaf, they'd best be keeping a steady rationing system to last them. Which meant less natural foods...and a steady diet of more protein based meals.

Jīngcai.

Simon hesitantly approached the ladder that led to the cockpit. He looked up and rolled up his sleeves, trying to hide the engine grease that stained them. He'd been helping Kaylee rev the system in the engine room and apply the fuel cells. It was messy work, but once Kaylee had assured him that she could finish prepping the steamers with two hands instead of four, Simon submissively obliged her invitation to let him free, which in terms of Kaylee's instinctive politeness, translated to get out of her hair. He had been rather clumsy, despite his efforts to be helpful. Kaylee's cheery disposition was held together by a thin enough strand as it was, and his assistance was hindering her progress in recovering herself and Serenity's engine rather than helping.

"Captain?" He called up, not wanted to encroach on parameters that he wasn't qualified for. "Do you have a minute?"

Mal glanced down at Simon. "Can it wait? We're about to break atmo. I wanna make sure there're no Fed's high-tailing us while we make our exit."

"Oh. Y-Yes...Certainly." Simon stammered. The topic of Feds always had him apprehensive. Ensuring the possibility that the Feds weren't suspicious of the vessel's activity was always a good thing. Simon was willing to wait out for that verdict. The safety of him and his sister River was more pertinent than what he had to tell Mal. It definitely bought Simon some more time to avoid telling him. Or, more specifically, brainstorm other ideas that may break the news more eloquently, and diminish the risk of Mal decking him. He'd had the misfortune of being a victim of that on more than one occasion, and would prefer that his face remain as bruise-free as possible.

The ship shuddered incessantly as they continued to breach the limits atmosphere. Simon placed a hand on the rung of the ladder, waiting patiently until the ship stilled into the vacuum of space.

"There don't appear to be any signals riding up on our proximity," Simon heard Wash say from aloft. "Setting due course for Harvest. Which, by the way, I'm eager to hear what you have in mind for us to do once we get there."

"I'll let you know 'soon as I have all my ducks in a row," Mal replied.

"Gee, that's deeply reassuring. Is that your way of saying you don't have a plan yet?" Wash said sardonically.

"I don't rightly have time for your 'tude right now, Wash. I still need to fine tune some things. Your aggravatin' me ain't gonna help either of us until then. I'll let y'all know by dinner at the latest. Good enough for you?"

Wash must have gestured some sort of response, because Simon didn't hear him after that. Mal entered Simon's line of sight as he exited the cockpit and descended the ladder. Simon mentally cursed Wash for setting Mal off again. This was only going to increase the difficulty of Simon forwarding his information.

"Got something to share, doctor?" Mal asked, his arm still poised on the rung of the ladder he'd just climbed down. His broad frame contrasted starkly with Simon's narrower build. It put him at a slight disadvantage when trying to communicate with Mal as an equal individual.

"Yes. You'd asked me to inform you if there were any additional supplies I'd need to restock in the infirmary," he prefaced, casting a wary, but steady gaze on Mal's face, bracing himself for a reaction. To his surprise, his expression remained unchanged.

"That I did," He said, tight lipped. "What'd you come up with?"

Simon glanced down at the floor briefly, carefully considering his next words. He knew the discussion was viable to make a one-eighty degree turn in tone if he didn't use cautionary discretion. "Well...I ran an inventory on what supplies we've run short of, as well as created a list of provisions we should aim to accumulate." He directed his blue gaze right back at Mal's steely gray eyes. "Unfortunately, the amount we're in dire need of, while they outweigh the luxuries it'd be useful to have, they also outweigh the expenses that we earn on a regular basis."

Mal rolled his eyes and muttered a soft "Ta ma duh." Simon gave a brief nod in subtle agreement before pressing on.

"I've managed to minimize the list of med supplies that I predict we'll need the most. It's not exactly ideal for what I'd like to have for a basic kit. But I'm hoping it'll make due until we manage to get a generous offer in pay."

"Don't keep your hopes up, doc. 'S all I can say." Mal said. He was about to turn back to the direction of the cockpit, but Simon halted him.

"That was never my intent, Captain. However, I must request one condition before we make any purchases at that point in time."

Mal scoffed, irritation beginning to swell. He scratched lightly at his chin. "Condition?" Never a wise decision to challenge the Captain's authority. Not in Mal's book. He appeased Simon in any case.

"I must be ensured at least 5% of the medical budget to contribute to providing medicines for River."

"That's a rather weighty sum you're demanding there; 'specially if the inventory is as scanty as you claim." Mal crossed his arms, waiting to hear Simon's justification.

"I need to be able to keep a steady prognosis on River's behavioral tendencies. The more unpredictable she is, the less inclined you are to promising our safety. It's in your best interest that her medicinal needs are a priority." Simon elaborated his case, trying to get his message across as professionally as he could, without resorted to acting defensive.

Mal was less interested in making an educative deliberation on the subject. Peeved, Mal squared his shoulders and closed in angrily on Simon. His smoldering rage had deepened his glare, shadowing his brooding eyes. "No Simon. The only thing that interests me is that you got what we need to keep the crew from bein' dead, dong ma?"

Simon eyelids fluttered, his confidence was waning. "Wo Dong. But you need to understand—it's getting difficult to get a proper diagnosis for River if she's not lucid; and I need the right drugs to makes sure she's capable of describing her medical situation without feeling urges to start spouting in cryptic metaphors. Or demolishing things."

"She seems to handle well enough on her own while you're babysittin' her. Till we manage to get on our feet again, I don't expect any of us to be receiving top notch physicals."

At this, Simon snapped. "How soon do you think it will be for us to get enough money to afford all the med supplies we need? Setting aside a portion of income regularly is the best bet in getting medical supplies at a reasonable rate."

"Not when I've got the heart of the ship to look after, too. May have slipped your noggin, doc, but this boat's recently been subject to suffering the backlash for not being a priority earlier. Now I got more ship parts fallin' apart than I can shake five sticks at. I for one, am not willing to relive your last birthday celebration."

Simon winced at the memory. But that didn't stop him from vying as best he could to win favor in this discussion. He took a step closer, arguing up close and personal, his tone lowering dangerously. "And when a crew member faces the brink of death? What then? All it takes is one stray bullet; one mishap with a job gone south. Are you prepared to deal with that?"

Mal didn't budge, but his seething rage and authoritative response completely overpowered Simon's intimidation techniques. "If this ship goes out while we're in the black, we'll all be on the brink of death. I'm surprised you didn't break that down on your own from our our last close call."

Zoe called Mal from the bridge. "Sir, there's something you should see..."

"We're done here," Mal said, disdain dripping in his voice. Then he climbed back up the stairs.

Simon went his own separate way, muttering angrily under his breath. As he expected, the conversation didn't go smoothly. But he'd have to find some way to get the supplies he needed to help his damaged sister.

Speaking of which, it would probably be a good idea to check in on her. She seemed to have slept peacefully for an entire night without interruption, and continued to sleep the latter part of the day. It was so rare for her to sleep so thoroughly and peacefully, Simon hadn't the heart to wake her up and perform more examinations on her in the cold detached setting of the infirmary. Violence and fear tended to ensue from her end. But even long slumbers had to end at some point, and she'd almost slept through it all. Simon gave a bitter smile. How perfectly adolescent of her. He had a grim suspicion that the Academy she was trapped in didn't exactly allow for that sort of thing. Perhaps it was for the best that he let her sleep as long as she had. Then again, all growing teens also needed food in their system to keep them sustained and healthy. At the very least, it wouldn't hurt to check in on her.

*TRANSLATIONS*

Au naturale - Natural (french)

feng le - crazy

guai- hell

Xiabiàn tong - piss bucket

Dong ma? - understand?

Jīngcai- wonderful/brilliant.

Ta ma duh- damn/damn it

wo dong- I understand.