Firefly fic dump
So, there are some Firefly stories that I'll never finish. I liked the way they started, but then I ran out of steam. Now I'm coming to accept that they'll never be finished, although I think these work as snapshot type of things; this is a dump of those unfinished things. Closure, yay!
Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to these characters/situations; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing.
Kaylee isn't who she seems.
Watching Reynolds is tiresome. The man is clearly a broken husk; there's nothing in him left that would start an insurgency, although some days, she thinks he would join one as soon as he would take his next breath. But anything like that would be doomed to almost immediate failure. The Independents are gone, scattered, most of them eking out pathetic livings as petty criminals and losers.
Her assignment is a waste of her time, just like it is with most of the agents watching former Independents; she knows it, her immediate contact knows it; if Reynolds understood who she was, he'd tell her himself that she's wasting her time. But she can't complain. She's a newer recruit, she doesn't get to decide where she goes, who she watches, or what she does.
This is the life she chose, and she's expected to smile and do as she's told.
"Kaylee!" Reynolds yells, and she rolls her eyes. "You get the cry baby ready, just in case!"
"Yes, cap!" She yells back, making sure her voice sounds just the right shade of sweet and anxious. Kaywinnet Lee Frye isn't supposed to like it when her captain works dangerous jobs.
*
At first, she'd been worried about the Companion. They're trained to see layers, detect liars. But Kaylee's fairly sure that Inara has never truly guessed what she is. Sometimes she finds Inara watching her, brow slightly furrowed. Kaylee always makes sure she's extra sweet on those days, or maybe a little upset about something. Those are the days when Inara ends up soothing her, hugging her, brushing her hair.
"I miss my folks," she says, sometimes, and tries not to smile when Inara's mouth turns down.
"Tell me about them," Inara always says, and Kaylee tells nonsense stories and lies, carefully cataloguing what she says, remembering it all for later.
*
She just wishes that Reynolds would get himself shot and killed, once and for all, because then she'd get reassigned. Anything has got to be better than flying around on this bucket, pretending that she likes these people, and that she cares.
And then one day it all gets interesting. She recognizes Simon Tam pretty damn quickly, and works to get him on the ship. He's looking desperate, and it doesn't take much - a few smiles, a few reassurances. She just hopes that Reynolds doesn't screw up all her hard work. She picks up the Sheppard for good measure, and because she deserves some of that fruit he's carrying. Dobson comes on last minute; she knows what he is right away. He's pathetically easy to spot. But it's not worth the effort to dissuade him, and anyway, he'll make a perfect cover for her. She's a little disappointed that Reynolds doesn't see Dobson as the lawman he is. Reynolds should have seen him coming from a mile away, but maybe he was just lured by the money.
She sits there at the dinner table, listening to the garbage that Cobb pulls, pretending to be shy and embarrassed; mostly, she's just wondering if maybe this assignment might shape up to be interesting. Maybe if she brings in Tam, she'll get a promotion, especially if that's his sister he's got in the coolbox.
Later, when she gets a chance, she talks to her contact.
Reynolds catches the Cortex link, which irks her, because she's supposed to be better than that. Also, it ends up getting her shot, but she figures a gut wound keeps her from being under suspicion. It's almost a good trade-off.
Even though the pain meds, she manages to pull it together, to babble something meaningless about faith to Reynolds. As he looks down at her, she can tell he doesn't suspect a damn thing.
After the Reavers, she's even more eager to bring in the Tams and get off this rutting ship. But the higher-ups have other plans, plans that mean watching what the girl is up to, seeing what she does, how she acts.
"We'll send someone to bring them in at a later time," she's told. "For now, we want you to watch her. Report on her abilities, her behaviour, her weaknesses." Her contact frowns at her, his face slightly distorted by the small, dated screen of her reader. "Do you understand?"
Of course she understands. She isn't an idiot. And if she's furious about being forced to live with these people for even longer, she's too well trained to show it. "I understand, sir." She doesn't grit her teeth as she says it.
She ignores the pain in her gut; at least Tam is a decent surgeon. She's certain she won't get some kind of infection.
Some days, that's all you can ask for, out on the Rim.
"I hate my job," she mutters, after she signs off.
*
Of all the crew, it's Washburn she's least annoyed by. He's funny, he reminds her of a man she went through training with. Zoe Alleyne might be stoic and unreadable, Cobb might be a waste of air, and Reynolds might be her endless cross to bear, but Washburn isn't so bad.
He understands when she starts talking in technical terms, and he's got good ideas for helping Serenity not fall apart quite so easily.
But still, there's something suspicious about his easy laugh, the way he watches the others around him. Maybe he's just happy, observant; maybe he doesn't trust Reynolds as much as the others, and maybe he's jealous of Reynolds' history with his second-in-command. Could be that there's nothing wrong with Washburn, nothing beyond his criminal tendencies and his poor taste in employers. Nevertheless, she still watches him as closely as she watches the others. She never lets her cover slip, not even around him. Especially around him.
She knows better than to begin to trust these kinds of people.
*
Being on Persephone is almost worse than being stuck on the ship. The planet is just civilized enough to make her homesick. She longs to spend a few hours in a decent eatery, one that's clean and not harbouring men in various stages of overindulgence. She just wants away from these people; now would be the perfect time to knock the Tams out and get them to a security detachment.
"Not yet," she'd been told, when she'd reported their destination, and made the suggestion. "We still need to know more of how she's doing in the outside world."
"She's crazy," Kaylee wanted to say, "completely insane." Whatever kind of experiment River Tam is, Kaylee figures it didn't work. She wonders if it was worth the expense, and if it was worth destroying Simon Tam - any city can always use skilled, dedicated doctors - in the process.
Though, he's a pathetic man, if he actually believes that he'd managed to rescue his sister - if he actually believes the Parliament would let such an asset go so freely.
There's a dress, hanging in a window of one of the cheap stores, and she's briefly distracted, staring at it in horror.
But the others are watching her, so smiles, gushes, and vomits sweetness all over the street.
Thankfully, this job means she'll never have to wear that kind of dress. Malcolm Reynolds has no use for frippery on his mechanic, and Kaylee Frye would never be able to afford such a dress.
Toxic
"No. No. You've got to be joking!" Wash says it with a laugh, but even as he does, he knows Mal is serious. "Not there. Why would someone smuggle something there of all places?"
"You know why."
And yeah, he does. Hades' toxic waste processing factory is renowned. No one goes there unless they're desperate. Even the Feds ignore the place, and the land around it is dead for miles. No one settles. No one visits. It's a perfect drop spot for illegal cargo. Perfect. And toxic as hell.
Mal continues, "Wash, you and Kaylee are going. You'll figure out which of the toxin shipments is hiding our cargo."
Kaylee sighs audibly. "Can't it never be on the pretty planets? Can't I ever go in dressed up nice? Just for once?"
The grin Mal gives her is indulgent, but mean, that way only he seems to have. "You had the once. Don't go pushing your luck."
"What luck? Don't got any -"
But he cuts her off. "And Jayne. You're going too."
"Aww."
And that's it, as far as Wash can tell.
*
After the first day - 10 straight hours with a break for a gritty lunch - Wash finds Jayne and together they head back to the company barracks. They move at a slow trudge, heading for the few spots of shade along the way. The sun here is bright, and everything looks overexposed.
It's hell. Hell walking after hours of work in the factory. Wash can still smell the toxins, can still taste the chemicals that linger in the air. Outside, the taste mixes with overheated dust, and still it's somehow cleaner against his tongue, or coating the insides of his cheeks.
"Ain't fair," Jayne mutters, when they're half-way to the barracks. "Makes sense why you and Kaylee gotta be here. But me? Ain't fair."
"You're protection," Wash answers, tiredly. Mal's already said as much. "Folk who come work in this kind of place aren't exactly peace-loving. You're here to watch our backs."
"Yeah, I know that. Weren't askin' serious-like. It were rhetorical." He frowns when Wash turns and stares at him, stumbling over a rock for his trouble.
"Anyways, you an' her are off doin' the tech stuff, and I'm down on the floor shovelling that shit hour after hour. Can't watch much besides the shovel, the gunk, and the guy next to me."
"I guess we'll just have to come up with a secret signal in case we need you and your killer shovel."
Jayne looks at him, half-annoyed, half-interested. "What kinda signal?"
It wasn't a serious suggestion, and in any case, Wash figures any trouble will happen off hours, not on the facility floor. Still, he can't quite help it, "'Help, help, I'm being killed?' Or what about 'Think of what Zoe'll do to you if you let me die?'"
Jayne snorts. "Yeah. That last one might work."
Despite himself - despite the smell he knows is him, despite the sun and the crappy job and the exhaustion - Wash grins a little. "She's a force to be reckoned with, my Zoe." In the distance - not too far now - he sees Kaylee leaning up against the wall of the barracks. He imagines that the slight halo of shine he can see around her head is because she's already had time to wash her hair. The shine isn't the residue of the factory.
*
"No, really," Wash says, their fourth day in, "Mal is going to pay for this. I'm not getting paid enough for this kind of work." He strips out of his coveralls, grimacing at the ooze on the sleeves.
Jayne grunts, pulling off his own clothes. "Didn't see Zoe tryin' to be protective and get you outta this job."
Wash glares, but he knows there isn't much force behind it. "Yeah. Well. She -"
"She bends right over for Mal, most days."
He sees red. He isn't sure if it's a side-effect of the toxins, if he's just hungry for something other than refried protein, or if it's something else, but suddenly, Wash can't stand around and make half-jokes about the situation. He lunges at Jayne.
"Hey!" Kaylee yells it as Jayne holds Wash back, one hand pushing at his chest, a grin on his face. "You two cut it out. We got enough to worry about, don't need you two at it too." She points at her hair, and glares. "I got gunk in my hair, I smell like something on one of Mal's old shoes, and I got nine hours before I gotta go back in that factory. I ain't spending it waiting around for you two in an infirmary -"
"Ain't me who'd be waiting in there -"
She speaks right over Jayne, " - so don't. Just don't."
It takes a minute, but Jayne lets Wash go, shaking him a little, and muttering something under his breath, but they end it. For now.
"Anyways, we got to get thinking about what we're gonna do."
"Do? We do the job. Mal were real specific."
She looks at Jayne like he's got less than two brain cells. And she might be right, but Wash isn't going to say so now.
"Not the job. I ain't got no problems with that. I mean after. How we're gonna make them pay for this. For sending us in here."
A slow grin spreads across Jayne's face. "I'm gonna get a bigger cut."
Rolling his eyes - it's a reflex, lately - Wash says, "Oh, that's devious and cunning."
Simon is not dissimilar to Snow White.
When Simon was just a little girl child, his father, out of a misplaced sense of loneliness, remarried after the untimely and tragic death of Simon's beloved mother Inara. Gabriel's new wife, Patience, was a vain, devious woman who also had a host of evil technological powers at her disposal to make her look pretty and young. It seemed to go well for a space (although she was never really loving to Simon; and damned if she was actually patient) until Simon started to blossom into a lovely young lady creature.
That's when Patience got jealous. And being Patience, she hatched a plot. She dosed Simon with a drug that made him look dead, and paid off Hunter Mal Reynolds to bury Simon deep in the forest (I don't know about you, but if 'bury deep in the forest' isn't a metaphor for something a little raunchy, I don't know what is).
"And bring me back his shiny vest so that I know you did it!" She cackled. (Though smart people would tell her she was laughing delicately like a real lady).
Hunter Mal figured that he had better things to do than go bury a boy who went and got himself dead. But hell, Patience paid his wages. He did a job, and then he got paid.
He was halfway to the burial place when Simon woke up and started throwing up everywhere. It was disgusting. Mal was tempted to kill him himself, just for that. But that wouldn't be right, so instead he figured out what Lady Patience was up to (that old harridan), and decided that sometimes, it did a body good to screw with Patience's mind.
So he took Simon to Kaylee, a miner and tinkerer who lived in the middle of forest. And before he left Simon there, he stole away Simon's vest (his favourite!) to give back to Patience.
By this point, Simon was a little discombobulated. He'd spent half the day dead, he could never go home, and here he was, suddenly living in shack in the middle of the woods. Even worse, he was dehydrated from all the vomiting. But Kaylee seemed like a nice person, even if after only two days, he began to wonder if maybe there were actually seven of her. Sometimes it seemed like she was everywhere at once. Especially when it came to flirting with him and touching places he'd hoped a girl's hand would never go.
There had to be seven of her. Nobody had that many hands.
On his loneliest days, he'd why Hunter Mal hadn't stayed to keep him company. Not that Simon had been checking out his ass in those tight hunting pants of his. But really. He could at least stop by, say hi, once in a while. Typical of a man to save someone's life and then leave them stranded in the back of beyond.
But all in all, it was all flowers and sunshine (and sexual frustration on both Simon and Kaylee's parts) until one day, Patience figured out that Simon was not dead. One day, while Kaylee was out mining metal for her latest contraption (Simon didn't even pretend to understand what she was up to), Patience visited, disguised as a peasant lady. Simon, being rather smart, was hardly fooled, but before he could say, "Don't poison me, you ugly whore," she upped and poured poison down his throat.
She was pretty agile for a harridan.
When Kaylee returned, she found Simon dead, and this she figured was a real shame. Simon was so shiny, almost as shiny as the metal things she makes, and that gave her a real good idea. She put him in her very best metal box, up on a pedestal (because Simon never did like being on the dirt), and everyday, she visited him. He didn't rot or nothing, which she figured was crazy, but maybe he really was a fallen angel.
*
That's how it went for a space.
Until one day, Jayne Cobb, merc, came stomping through the forest, crushing ferns and small insects beneath his heavy, booted feet. His very favourite gun wasn't working right no more, so Hunter Mal had suggested Jayne pay a visit to Kaylee, who could fix all manner of things.
On his way to Kaylee's shack, Jayne passed Simon in his coffin. But hedon't pay it no mind, because he had a mission. Fix Vera. Now.
It wasn't until later, when Kaylee was tinkering and humming to herself, that he got bored, and went wandering outside. He passed by the coffin again, and looked inside, and thought, "That is all manner of tasty."
And Jayne had never had what the average person would call 'standards', so it didn't seem weird to be thinking about kissing what appeared to be a dead body. A pretty little dead body. And he was bored. And he was worried about Vera. So he couldn't be blamed when he just leaned down a little, and kissed Simon right on the lips.
With tongue.
Jayne woke up on the ground, the dead body standing over him.
"The hell?"
"You were poisoned."
Gorram. Never kiss them on the lips. How many times had Mal told him that? And anyway, dead bodies ain't supposed to be talking. Can't Jayne ever get some quiet?
"I was poisoned too. When you kissed me, you absorbed enough that my body was able to fight the rest off."
Poison. Rutting poison. Probably the work of that bitch Lady Patience. She wouldn't take too kindly to dead guy's nice skin and shiny hair. And red, red lips.
"You got a name?" Didn't seem right to be thinking of him as dead guy. Seeing as he weren't dead.
"Simon."
"You wanna show some gratitude for me waking you up?"
Simon frowned down at him. "Well. How long have I been sleeping?"
And that sounded like a yes to Jayne. He reached up and grabbed Simon's leg, pulling him to the ground too. "You ain't sleeping now."
The end.
(We won't get into how Kaylee stumbled upon them later, and was left feeling a little flushed - just like Simon - and for once, Simon didn't seem to object to her staring, and then somehow she ended up naked on top of Jayne, and suddenly Simon realized that maybe girl parts weren't all bad. In the right circumstances).
Sequel
Someone is lying on top of Mal, heavy and warm, and parts of him are real glad about that; others, not so much. He reaches out and shakes the nearest body part, which happens to be a shoulder. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, Simon raises his head. There are questions all over his face. Sleepy, headache-wracked questions.
"Was it U-Day?" Usually Mal only feels this bad after U-Day. Drinking, a decent fight, then more drinking, and he always has Zoe to thank for getting him back to the ship. Morning after is always worse than he remembers it.
"U-Day?" Simon's eyebrows draw together, and he breathes all over Mal's face as he asks the question. It's bad breath. Real bad. Still boozy, smell of some of the worst hooch he's ever had. The kind of stuff Jayne seems to secret away everywhere. It's surprising he ain't been blinded from it yet.
Mal feels drunk all over again, just smelling Simon's breath. He lets his head fall back on the pillow. It seems awful hard. He doesn't remember it being that hard. "Feels like it was U-Day."
Simon shifts, maybe a shrug, and it feels sort of good, skin sliding across his. But also, no. No way he's getting into it now. Not after U-Day. Not feeling like this. He's about to tell Simon to quit moving, and maybe also to get off him, when Simon tenses up. It's enough that Mal lifts his head up even though it hurts to hell, and says, "What?"
Simon's just lying there, sprawled on top of him, and he's got this frozen look on his face. The look Mal hates, because it always leads to - "What?"
"It." There's a pause, and it's long. It makes Mal feel tensed up, and something is bugging him at the back of his head. Something real -
"It wasn't U-Day, Mal."
Nope. Simon's pushing himself up now, moving away, like maybe he thinks Mal is a wild animal, something apt to snap. And he remembers now; he knows why Simon's looking a touch twitchy.
"My ship."
"Mal -" Still moving slowly, Simon's reaching down. Maybe getting clothes. Maybe -
"You ain't planning on doping me up, now are you, Doctor?"
Simon drops the vest in his hand. "No?"
Letting his head flop back down onto the bed again, Mal says, "Just get out."
There're a few minutes of rustling, sounds of clothes on skin, and it's all too gorram loud, and then Simon's climbing out of the room, fast as you please. So he should. Bad enough that he went and sold Serenity, but then he had the nerve to come and get Mal liquored up and whisper sweet, stupid plans for a cash grab. He ain't quite sure about the details of that plan now, but it must have been something decent, if it meant that Simon was able to get Mal to takes his pants off. And then some.
*
It ain't until way later that he shows his head above deck. And he just walks past Zoe, who's making like it's her job to hang around outside his door. He ignores Simon and Inara, the two of them standing by the kitchen like they're a team working against him. He makes tea, drinks it without a word, and then goes to the hospital.
Walk seems to take forever. Partly, he figures, because he's a bit glad to be getting away from Serenity; and also, he doesn't want to leave.
He's got no rutting idea what them three will get up to while he's gone this time.
Hospital ain't bad - not as shiny as what they might find on the central planets, but pretty damn good for out here. Probably the best he's seen. Soon as he walks in, he knows Simon was right - they were lucky this happened near a decent hospital. Otherwise, he'd likely have three - or at least two - dead crew on his hands.
All three of them are hooked up to oxygen, thought Jayne is looking twitchy about it. Kaylee and River, they ain't awake when he gets to the room, though it's plain as day that's a good thing. They're bandaged up all over, arms and faces, and Mal's sure the skin underneath is real nasty to look at. Can't be too bad, though, else they'd be kept in special sterile rooms. Mostly, the problems are with their lungs. Even with the oxygen, it's clear they ain't breathing well.
It's got to be painful as hell.
Jayne nods at him.
"Jayne. Feeling okay?"
He gets a shrug, but the O2 mask, it gets in the way of talking.
"Heard mostly you got some lung problems."
Another nod.
"You're out later today." Mal had had words with the local doc when he arrived. Jayne's out later today, fit for decent work in a couple more. He got away easy, only took a few breaths of the stuff. "Nice work, pulling them out."
This time he shrugs, looks away momentarily. Yeah. Jayne never did take those kinds of comments well.
He shifts over to Kaylee's bed, leans down and whispers, "Don't you worry about Serenity, now."
Maybe it's normal, but her eyelids flicker a little. Mal smiles. Figures Kaylee'd be listening for Serenity, even while laid up in the hospital.
Next, it's River, and he looks down at her, lying there so still, and says, "Looks like I'm gonna be meeting your daddy."
*
He says 'bye to Jayne, says he'll come meet up with him a little later, then heads out through the town. He's heading nowhere in particular.
He remembers most of last night now. Simon, the drinking, the plan, barely resisting the urge to beat Simon to a pulp, lots more drinking, clothes on the floor, and sex. Mostly bad sex, but it ain't surprising, given how rutting drunk they both were.
But mostly he remembers the plan Simon had come up with. Just enough of this side of stupid that it might actually work.
"See," Simon had said, "Inara has been monitoring the Cortex. River and I have been removed from the wanted lists. It probably won't last, but we have a window. We might as well use it."
"For what?"
Simon had smiled a hard, thin smile. It's a smile something Mal doesn't see real often, and it always spells no good. Usually for Mal himself. "Do you know how rich my parents are?"
"Rich?"
Simon had nodded. "Very rich."
"So?"
"So I think it's time I claimed my inheritance."
Simon had looked - hungry. Determined. "Your parents ain't dead."
"They're dead to me."
Mal had thought on it a moment, and nodded.
*
Simon and Zoe are waiting for him when he gets back to Serenity. He don't bother with preliminaries, just says, "Jayne's out later in the day; River and Kaylee ain't awake."
They nod, and he figures Simon's probably been to see them all, and come back, while Mal was wandering and thinking.
"So. Your parents got enough to buy back my ship."
"No."
Rutting Simon Tam.
"But it'll get us closer."
He's thinking about hitting something again, but instead, he turns to Zoe and asks, "So, the criminal mastermind over here told you the plan yet?"
The look on her face tells him that she knows all about the plan, and that she thinks he's maybe missing some of his brain again. Except this time, it's Simon who's the brainbox behind it all. "Of course. You and Simon go to Osiris. You meet up with his family, live a luxurious lifestyle for a space. Then you steal their money. You come back."
He nods, because that's basically how it'll go. But - "Don't forget you and Jayne, Zoe. A rich trader with a fleet of ships at his disposal just ain't to be seen without his loyal bodyguards. Fact is, I hear showing up at your intended's house without bodyguards has just gone out of style along with last season's dresses."
She rolls her eyes at him, but she ain't being serious. Maybe she's laughing a little, on the inside. Way inside. Maybe so inside she doesn't even know it herself. "How could I forget, sir?"
Makes him less twitchy to know that Zoe will be there with him. Least he won't have to negotiate the terrain of the rich and annoying by himself. Ain't much in the 'verse that's worth doing if it ain't being done alongside Zoe. "Hope your folks have got enough spare beds for Jayne and Zoe. 'Cause they ain't gonna be sharing one next door to us."
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Simon's got his distracted look on, and maybe Mal believes that he really did mean to say whatever new tidbit he's about to say. "There are servant's quarters. Zoe and Jayne will be staying there."
The look Zoe gives him makes Mal think that he might have to get in line to get his hands around Simon's throat.
*
It goes real smooth, at first. Simon calls his folks, makes his joyous wedding announcement, and gives the dates of their arrival.
"And mother, please remember he's rather powerful on Bellerophon. I'd like you and father to make a good impression if at all possible." If Simon used that tone with him, Mal wouldn't hesitate to do something about it. But the woman on the screen just nods, and asks, "Will River be joining us?"
"No." Simon replies, his words final.
They arrive. Introductions get made, and Mal resists the urge to squirm in his new suit. He looks like a gorram idiot, all covered in ruffles and shine, but Inara had insisted it was the current fashion.
Simon's daddy is an arrogant pissant, but it ain't like Mal wasn't expecting it. His mother ain't got much of spine in her, and Mal finds his eyes just slide right over her when he ain't forcing himself to pay attention.
It's only later when he starts to think, this is bad. Very, very bad.
Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to these characters/situations; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing.
Kaylee isn't who she seems.
Watching Reynolds is tiresome. The man is clearly a broken husk; there's nothing in him left that would start an insurgency, although some days, she thinks he would join one as soon as he would take his next breath. But anything like that would be doomed to almost immediate failure. The Independents are gone, scattered, most of them eking out pathetic livings as petty criminals and losers.
Her assignment is a waste of her time, just like it is with most of the agents watching former Independents; she knows it, her immediate contact knows it; if Reynolds understood who she was, he'd tell her himself that she's wasting her time. But she can't complain. She's a newer recruit, she doesn't get to decide where she goes, who she watches, or what she does.
This is the life she chose, and she's expected to smile and do as she's told.
"Kaylee!" Reynolds yells, and she rolls her eyes. "You get the cry baby ready, just in case!"
"Yes, cap!" She yells back, making sure her voice sounds just the right shade of sweet and anxious. Kaywinnet Lee Frye isn't supposed to like it when her captain works dangerous jobs.
*
At first, she'd been worried about the Companion. They're trained to see layers, detect liars. But Kaylee's fairly sure that Inara has never truly guessed what she is. Sometimes she finds Inara watching her, brow slightly furrowed. Kaylee always makes sure she's extra sweet on those days, or maybe a little upset about something. Those are the days when Inara ends up soothing her, hugging her, brushing her hair.
"I miss my folks," she says, sometimes, and tries not to smile when Inara's mouth turns down.
"Tell me about them," Inara always says, and Kaylee tells nonsense stories and lies, carefully cataloguing what she says, remembering it all for later.
*
She just wishes that Reynolds would get himself shot and killed, once and for all, because then she'd get reassigned. Anything has got to be better than flying around on this bucket, pretending that she likes these people, and that she cares.
And then one day it all gets interesting. She recognizes Simon Tam pretty damn quickly, and works to get him on the ship. He's looking desperate, and it doesn't take much - a few smiles, a few reassurances. She just hopes that Reynolds doesn't screw up all her hard work. She picks up the Sheppard for good measure, and because she deserves some of that fruit he's carrying. Dobson comes on last minute; she knows what he is right away. He's pathetically easy to spot. But it's not worth the effort to dissuade him, and anyway, he'll make a perfect cover for her. She's a little disappointed that Reynolds doesn't see Dobson as the lawman he is. Reynolds should have seen him coming from a mile away, but maybe he was just lured by the money.
She sits there at the dinner table, listening to the garbage that Cobb pulls, pretending to be shy and embarrassed; mostly, she's just wondering if maybe this assignment might shape up to be interesting. Maybe if she brings in Tam, she'll get a promotion, especially if that's his sister he's got in the coolbox.
Later, when she gets a chance, she talks to her contact.
Reynolds catches the Cortex link, which irks her, because she's supposed to be better than that. Also, it ends up getting her shot, but she figures a gut wound keeps her from being under suspicion. It's almost a good trade-off.
Even though the pain meds, she manages to pull it together, to babble something meaningless about faith to Reynolds. As he looks down at her, she can tell he doesn't suspect a damn thing.
After the Reavers, she's even more eager to bring in the Tams and get off this rutting ship. But the higher-ups have other plans, plans that mean watching what the girl is up to, seeing what she does, how she acts.
"We'll send someone to bring them in at a later time," she's told. "For now, we want you to watch her. Report on her abilities, her behaviour, her weaknesses." Her contact frowns at her, his face slightly distorted by the small, dated screen of her reader. "Do you understand?"
Of course she understands. She isn't an idiot. And if she's furious about being forced to live with these people for even longer, she's too well trained to show it. "I understand, sir." She doesn't grit her teeth as she says it.
She ignores the pain in her gut; at least Tam is a decent surgeon. She's certain she won't get some kind of infection.
Some days, that's all you can ask for, out on the Rim.
"I hate my job," she mutters, after she signs off.
*
Of all the crew, it's Washburn she's least annoyed by. He's funny, he reminds her of a man she went through training with. Zoe Alleyne might be stoic and unreadable, Cobb might be a waste of air, and Reynolds might be her endless cross to bear, but Washburn isn't so bad.
He understands when she starts talking in technical terms, and he's got good ideas for helping Serenity not fall apart quite so easily.
But still, there's something suspicious about his easy laugh, the way he watches the others around him. Maybe he's just happy, observant; maybe he doesn't trust Reynolds as much as the others, and maybe he's jealous of Reynolds' history with his second-in-command. Could be that there's nothing wrong with Washburn, nothing beyond his criminal tendencies and his poor taste in employers. Nevertheless, she still watches him as closely as she watches the others. She never lets her cover slip, not even around him. Especially around him.
She knows better than to begin to trust these kinds of people.
*
Being on Persephone is almost worse than being stuck on the ship. The planet is just civilized enough to make her homesick. She longs to spend a few hours in a decent eatery, one that's clean and not harbouring men in various stages of overindulgence. She just wants away from these people; now would be the perfect time to knock the Tams out and get them to a security detachment.
"Not yet," she'd been told, when she'd reported their destination, and made the suggestion. "We still need to know more of how she's doing in the outside world."
"She's crazy," Kaylee wanted to say, "completely insane." Whatever kind of experiment River Tam is, Kaylee figures it didn't work. She wonders if it was worth the expense, and if it was worth destroying Simon Tam - any city can always use skilled, dedicated doctors - in the process.
Though, he's a pathetic man, if he actually believes that he'd managed to rescue his sister - if he actually believes the Parliament would let such an asset go so freely.
There's a dress, hanging in a window of one of the cheap stores, and she's briefly distracted, staring at it in horror.
But the others are watching her, so smiles, gushes, and vomits sweetness all over the street.
Thankfully, this job means she'll never have to wear that kind of dress. Malcolm Reynolds has no use for frippery on his mechanic, and Kaylee Frye would never be able to afford such a dress.
Toxic
"No. No. You've got to be joking!" Wash says it with a laugh, but even as he does, he knows Mal is serious. "Not there. Why would someone smuggle something there of all places?"
"You know why."
And yeah, he does. Hades' toxic waste processing factory is renowned. No one goes there unless they're desperate. Even the Feds ignore the place, and the land around it is dead for miles. No one settles. No one visits. It's a perfect drop spot for illegal cargo. Perfect. And toxic as hell.
Mal continues, "Wash, you and Kaylee are going. You'll figure out which of the toxin shipments is hiding our cargo."
Kaylee sighs audibly. "Can't it never be on the pretty planets? Can't I ever go in dressed up nice? Just for once?"
The grin Mal gives her is indulgent, but mean, that way only he seems to have. "You had the once. Don't go pushing your luck."
"What luck? Don't got any -"
But he cuts her off. "And Jayne. You're going too."
"Aww."
And that's it, as far as Wash can tell.
*
After the first day - 10 straight hours with a break for a gritty lunch - Wash finds Jayne and together they head back to the company barracks. They move at a slow trudge, heading for the few spots of shade along the way. The sun here is bright, and everything looks overexposed.
It's hell. Hell walking after hours of work in the factory. Wash can still smell the toxins, can still taste the chemicals that linger in the air. Outside, the taste mixes with overheated dust, and still it's somehow cleaner against his tongue, or coating the insides of his cheeks.
"Ain't fair," Jayne mutters, when they're half-way to the barracks. "Makes sense why you and Kaylee gotta be here. But me? Ain't fair."
"You're protection," Wash answers, tiredly. Mal's already said as much. "Folk who come work in this kind of place aren't exactly peace-loving. You're here to watch our backs."
"Yeah, I know that. Weren't askin' serious-like. It were rhetorical." He frowns when Wash turns and stares at him, stumbling over a rock for his trouble.
"Anyways, you an' her are off doin' the tech stuff, and I'm down on the floor shovelling that shit hour after hour. Can't watch much besides the shovel, the gunk, and the guy next to me."
"I guess we'll just have to come up with a secret signal in case we need you and your killer shovel."
Jayne looks at him, half-annoyed, half-interested. "What kinda signal?"
It wasn't a serious suggestion, and in any case, Wash figures any trouble will happen off hours, not on the facility floor. Still, he can't quite help it, "'Help, help, I'm being killed?' Or what about 'Think of what Zoe'll do to you if you let me die?'"
Jayne snorts. "Yeah. That last one might work."
Despite himself - despite the smell he knows is him, despite the sun and the crappy job and the exhaustion - Wash grins a little. "She's a force to be reckoned with, my Zoe." In the distance - not too far now - he sees Kaylee leaning up against the wall of the barracks. He imagines that the slight halo of shine he can see around her head is because she's already had time to wash her hair. The shine isn't the residue of the factory.
*
"No, really," Wash says, their fourth day in, "Mal is going to pay for this. I'm not getting paid enough for this kind of work." He strips out of his coveralls, grimacing at the ooze on the sleeves.
Jayne grunts, pulling off his own clothes. "Didn't see Zoe tryin' to be protective and get you outta this job."
Wash glares, but he knows there isn't much force behind it. "Yeah. Well. She -"
"She bends right over for Mal, most days."
He sees red. He isn't sure if it's a side-effect of the toxins, if he's just hungry for something other than refried protein, or if it's something else, but suddenly, Wash can't stand around and make half-jokes about the situation. He lunges at Jayne.
"Hey!" Kaylee yells it as Jayne holds Wash back, one hand pushing at his chest, a grin on his face. "You two cut it out. We got enough to worry about, don't need you two at it too." She points at her hair, and glares. "I got gunk in my hair, I smell like something on one of Mal's old shoes, and I got nine hours before I gotta go back in that factory. I ain't spending it waiting around for you two in an infirmary -"
"Ain't me who'd be waiting in there -"
She speaks right over Jayne, " - so don't. Just don't."
It takes a minute, but Jayne lets Wash go, shaking him a little, and muttering something under his breath, but they end it. For now.
"Anyways, we got to get thinking about what we're gonna do."
"Do? We do the job. Mal were real specific."
She looks at Jayne like he's got less than two brain cells. And she might be right, but Wash isn't going to say so now.
"Not the job. I ain't got no problems with that. I mean after. How we're gonna make them pay for this. For sending us in here."
A slow grin spreads across Jayne's face. "I'm gonna get a bigger cut."
Rolling his eyes - it's a reflex, lately - Wash says, "Oh, that's devious and cunning."
Simon is not dissimilar to Snow White.
When Simon was just a little girl child, his father, out of a misplaced sense of loneliness, remarried after the untimely and tragic death of Simon's beloved mother Inara. Gabriel's new wife, Patience, was a vain, devious woman who also had a host of evil technological powers at her disposal to make her look pretty and young. It seemed to go well for a space (although she was never really loving to Simon; and damned if she was actually patient) until Simon started to blossom into a lovely young lady creature.
That's when Patience got jealous. And being Patience, she hatched a plot. She dosed Simon with a drug that made him look dead, and paid off Hunter Mal Reynolds to bury Simon deep in the forest (I don't know about you, but if 'bury deep in the forest' isn't a metaphor for something a little raunchy, I don't know what is).
"And bring me back his shiny vest so that I know you did it!" She cackled. (Though smart people would tell her she was laughing delicately like a real lady).
Hunter Mal figured that he had better things to do than go bury a boy who went and got himself dead. But hell, Patience paid his wages. He did a job, and then he got paid.
He was halfway to the burial place when Simon woke up and started throwing up everywhere. It was disgusting. Mal was tempted to kill him himself, just for that. But that wouldn't be right, so instead he figured out what Lady Patience was up to (that old harridan), and decided that sometimes, it did a body good to screw with Patience's mind.
So he took Simon to Kaylee, a miner and tinkerer who lived in the middle of forest. And before he left Simon there, he stole away Simon's vest (his favourite!) to give back to Patience.
By this point, Simon was a little discombobulated. He'd spent half the day dead, he could never go home, and here he was, suddenly living in shack in the middle of the woods. Even worse, he was dehydrated from all the vomiting. But Kaylee seemed like a nice person, even if after only two days, he began to wonder if maybe there were actually seven of her. Sometimes it seemed like she was everywhere at once. Especially when it came to flirting with him and touching places he'd hoped a girl's hand would never go.
There had to be seven of her. Nobody had that many hands.
On his loneliest days, he'd why Hunter Mal hadn't stayed to keep him company. Not that Simon had been checking out his ass in those tight hunting pants of his. But really. He could at least stop by, say hi, once in a while. Typical of a man to save someone's life and then leave them stranded in the back of beyond.
But all in all, it was all flowers and sunshine (and sexual frustration on both Simon and Kaylee's parts) until one day, Patience figured out that Simon was not dead. One day, while Kaylee was out mining metal for her latest contraption (Simon didn't even pretend to understand what she was up to), Patience visited, disguised as a peasant lady. Simon, being rather smart, was hardly fooled, but before he could say, "Don't poison me, you ugly whore," she upped and poured poison down his throat.
She was pretty agile for a harridan.
When Kaylee returned, she found Simon dead, and this she figured was a real shame. Simon was so shiny, almost as shiny as the metal things she makes, and that gave her a real good idea. She put him in her very best metal box, up on a pedestal (because Simon never did like being on the dirt), and everyday, she visited him. He didn't rot or nothing, which she figured was crazy, but maybe he really was a fallen angel.
*
That's how it went for a space.
Until one day, Jayne Cobb, merc, came stomping through the forest, crushing ferns and small insects beneath his heavy, booted feet. His very favourite gun wasn't working right no more, so Hunter Mal had suggested Jayne pay a visit to Kaylee, who could fix all manner of things.
On his way to Kaylee's shack, Jayne passed Simon in his coffin. But hedon't pay it no mind, because he had a mission. Fix Vera. Now.
It wasn't until later, when Kaylee was tinkering and humming to herself, that he got bored, and went wandering outside. He passed by the coffin again, and looked inside, and thought, "That is all manner of tasty."
And Jayne had never had what the average person would call 'standards', so it didn't seem weird to be thinking about kissing what appeared to be a dead body. A pretty little dead body. And he was bored. And he was worried about Vera. So he couldn't be blamed when he just leaned down a little, and kissed Simon right on the lips.
With tongue.
Jayne woke up on the ground, the dead body standing over him.
"The hell?"
"You were poisoned."
Gorram. Never kiss them on the lips. How many times had Mal told him that? And anyway, dead bodies ain't supposed to be talking. Can't Jayne ever get some quiet?
"I was poisoned too. When you kissed me, you absorbed enough that my body was able to fight the rest off."
Poison. Rutting poison. Probably the work of that bitch Lady Patience. She wouldn't take too kindly to dead guy's nice skin and shiny hair. And red, red lips.
"You got a name?" Didn't seem right to be thinking of him as dead guy. Seeing as he weren't dead.
"Simon."
"You wanna show some gratitude for me waking you up?"
Simon frowned down at him. "Well. How long have I been sleeping?"
And that sounded like a yes to Jayne. He reached up and grabbed Simon's leg, pulling him to the ground too. "You ain't sleeping now."
The end.
(We won't get into how Kaylee stumbled upon them later, and was left feeling a little flushed - just like Simon - and for once, Simon didn't seem to object to her staring, and then somehow she ended up naked on top of Jayne, and suddenly Simon realized that maybe girl parts weren't all bad. In the right circumstances).
Sequel
Someone is lying on top of Mal, heavy and warm, and parts of him are real glad about that; others, not so much. He reaches out and shakes the nearest body part, which happens to be a shoulder. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, Simon raises his head. There are questions all over his face. Sleepy, headache-wracked questions.
"Was it U-Day?" Usually Mal only feels this bad after U-Day. Drinking, a decent fight, then more drinking, and he always has Zoe to thank for getting him back to the ship. Morning after is always worse than he remembers it.
"U-Day?" Simon's eyebrows draw together, and he breathes all over Mal's face as he asks the question. It's bad breath. Real bad. Still boozy, smell of some of the worst hooch he's ever had. The kind of stuff Jayne seems to secret away everywhere. It's surprising he ain't been blinded from it yet.
Mal feels drunk all over again, just smelling Simon's breath. He lets his head fall back on the pillow. It seems awful hard. He doesn't remember it being that hard. "Feels like it was U-Day."
Simon shifts, maybe a shrug, and it feels sort of good, skin sliding across his. But also, no. No way he's getting into it now. Not after U-Day. Not feeling like this. He's about to tell Simon to quit moving, and maybe also to get off him, when Simon tenses up. It's enough that Mal lifts his head up even though it hurts to hell, and says, "What?"
Simon's just lying there, sprawled on top of him, and he's got this frozen look on his face. The look Mal hates, because it always leads to - "What?"
"It." There's a pause, and it's long. It makes Mal feel tensed up, and something is bugging him at the back of his head. Something real -
"It wasn't U-Day, Mal."
Nope. Simon's pushing himself up now, moving away, like maybe he thinks Mal is a wild animal, something apt to snap. And he remembers now; he knows why Simon's looking a touch twitchy.
"My ship."
"Mal -" Still moving slowly, Simon's reaching down. Maybe getting clothes. Maybe -
"You ain't planning on doping me up, now are you, Doctor?"
Simon drops the vest in his hand. "No?"
Letting his head flop back down onto the bed again, Mal says, "Just get out."
There're a few minutes of rustling, sounds of clothes on skin, and it's all too gorram loud, and then Simon's climbing out of the room, fast as you please. So he should. Bad enough that he went and sold Serenity, but then he had the nerve to come and get Mal liquored up and whisper sweet, stupid plans for a cash grab. He ain't quite sure about the details of that plan now, but it must have been something decent, if it meant that Simon was able to get Mal to takes his pants off. And then some.
*
It ain't until way later that he shows his head above deck. And he just walks past Zoe, who's making like it's her job to hang around outside his door. He ignores Simon and Inara, the two of them standing by the kitchen like they're a team working against him. He makes tea, drinks it without a word, and then goes to the hospital.
Walk seems to take forever. Partly, he figures, because he's a bit glad to be getting away from Serenity; and also, he doesn't want to leave.
He's got no rutting idea what them three will get up to while he's gone this time.
Hospital ain't bad - not as shiny as what they might find on the central planets, but pretty damn good for out here. Probably the best he's seen. Soon as he walks in, he knows Simon was right - they were lucky this happened near a decent hospital. Otherwise, he'd likely have three - or at least two - dead crew on his hands.
All three of them are hooked up to oxygen, thought Jayne is looking twitchy about it. Kaylee and River, they ain't awake when he gets to the room, though it's plain as day that's a good thing. They're bandaged up all over, arms and faces, and Mal's sure the skin underneath is real nasty to look at. Can't be too bad, though, else they'd be kept in special sterile rooms. Mostly, the problems are with their lungs. Even with the oxygen, it's clear they ain't breathing well.
It's got to be painful as hell.
Jayne nods at him.
"Jayne. Feeling okay?"
He gets a shrug, but the O2 mask, it gets in the way of talking.
"Heard mostly you got some lung problems."
Another nod.
"You're out later today." Mal had had words with the local doc when he arrived. Jayne's out later today, fit for decent work in a couple more. He got away easy, only took a few breaths of the stuff. "Nice work, pulling them out."
This time he shrugs, looks away momentarily. Yeah. Jayne never did take those kinds of comments well.
He shifts over to Kaylee's bed, leans down and whispers, "Don't you worry about Serenity, now."
Maybe it's normal, but her eyelids flicker a little. Mal smiles. Figures Kaylee'd be listening for Serenity, even while laid up in the hospital.
Next, it's River, and he looks down at her, lying there so still, and says, "Looks like I'm gonna be meeting your daddy."
*
He says 'bye to Jayne, says he'll come meet up with him a little later, then heads out through the town. He's heading nowhere in particular.
He remembers most of last night now. Simon, the drinking, the plan, barely resisting the urge to beat Simon to a pulp, lots more drinking, clothes on the floor, and sex. Mostly bad sex, but it ain't surprising, given how rutting drunk they both were.
But mostly he remembers the plan Simon had come up with. Just enough of this side of stupid that it might actually work.
"See," Simon had said, "Inara has been monitoring the Cortex. River and I have been removed from the wanted lists. It probably won't last, but we have a window. We might as well use it."
"For what?"
Simon had smiled a hard, thin smile. It's a smile something Mal doesn't see real often, and it always spells no good. Usually for Mal himself. "Do you know how rich my parents are?"
"Rich?"
Simon had nodded. "Very rich."
"So?"
"So I think it's time I claimed my inheritance."
Simon had looked - hungry. Determined. "Your parents ain't dead."
"They're dead to me."
Mal had thought on it a moment, and nodded.
*
Simon and Zoe are waiting for him when he gets back to Serenity. He don't bother with preliminaries, just says, "Jayne's out later in the day; River and Kaylee ain't awake."
They nod, and he figures Simon's probably been to see them all, and come back, while Mal was wandering and thinking.
"So. Your parents got enough to buy back my ship."
"No."
Rutting Simon Tam.
"But it'll get us closer."
He's thinking about hitting something again, but instead, he turns to Zoe and asks, "So, the criminal mastermind over here told you the plan yet?"
The look on her face tells him that she knows all about the plan, and that she thinks he's maybe missing some of his brain again. Except this time, it's Simon who's the brainbox behind it all. "Of course. You and Simon go to Osiris. You meet up with his family, live a luxurious lifestyle for a space. Then you steal their money. You come back."
He nods, because that's basically how it'll go. But - "Don't forget you and Jayne, Zoe. A rich trader with a fleet of ships at his disposal just ain't to be seen without his loyal bodyguards. Fact is, I hear showing up at your intended's house without bodyguards has just gone out of style along with last season's dresses."
She rolls her eyes at him, but she ain't being serious. Maybe she's laughing a little, on the inside. Way inside. Maybe so inside she doesn't even know it herself. "How could I forget, sir?"
Makes him less twitchy to know that Zoe will be there with him. Least he won't have to negotiate the terrain of the rich and annoying by himself. Ain't much in the 'verse that's worth doing if it ain't being done alongside Zoe. "Hope your folks have got enough spare beds for Jayne and Zoe. 'Cause they ain't gonna be sharing one next door to us."
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Simon's got his distracted look on, and maybe Mal believes that he really did mean to say whatever new tidbit he's about to say. "There are servant's quarters. Zoe and Jayne will be staying there."
The look Zoe gives him makes Mal think that he might have to get in line to get his hands around Simon's throat.
*
It goes real smooth, at first. Simon calls his folks, makes his joyous wedding announcement, and gives the dates of their arrival.
"And mother, please remember he's rather powerful on Bellerophon. I'd like you and father to make a good impression if at all possible." If Simon used that tone with him, Mal wouldn't hesitate to do something about it. But the woman on the screen just nods, and asks, "Will River be joining us?"
"No." Simon replies, his words final.
They arrive. Introductions get made, and Mal resists the urge to squirm in his new suit. He looks like a gorram idiot, all covered in ruffles and shine, but Inara had insisted it was the current fashion.
Simon's daddy is an arrogant pissant, but it ain't like Mal wasn't expecting it. His mother ain't got much of spine in her, and Mal finds his eyes just slide right over her when he ain't forcing himself to pay attention.
It's only later when he starts to think, this is bad. Very, very bad.