Firefly: Precise in Promise-Keeping (2/4)
Rating: PG overall, with a little PG-13 language
Disclaimer: Firefly, you were too good for this world, but if I owned you, you better believe you'd still be on the air.
Word Count: 1,989
Summary: Post-BDM. Badger makes an unexpected demand that leads to an interesting day for River.
A/N: Odd little thing I finally got around to finishing. Please feel free to correct my Britspeak. Chapters posted every other day.
Chapter One
“One good thing about blokes like Reynolds,” Badger said as he peered into the open crate. River could only assume he was talking to her, “Y’can almost always bet they won’t try to screw a man over. So many these days, can’t trust a gorram one, always tryin’ to get more’n they’re worth. Hell, I’ve been known to take my chances for a better cut, from time to time. But blokes like Reynolds, those bloody men of honor- they make a deal, they make a deal. An’ they’ll keep that deal, to the letter, every time. ‘S refreshin’, y’know?”
“I can imagine,” River pretended to sip her tea, “So, satisfied? You got the money you owe us, yeah?”
Badger finally turned away from his new acquisitions, “Right, right. All in good time, gorgeous, no rush. Said I’d ‘ave you back by eveningtime didn’t I? Well, that’s hours away.”
Another exaggerated eye roll allowed River to register each available exit point and potential weapon within the confines of Badger’s office. A benefit of the man’s impromptu soliloquy on the rarity of virtue, it gave her plenty of time to develop several escape strategies, should conditions call for one. If this was a kidnapping, River mused, it was a very poor one. Most of the thugs were at lunch, and they had traveled straight to the office in Eavesdown Docks, hardly an unknown location as far as Serenity’s crew was concerned. Really, River could be free of her... companion in seconds and back on the ship in minutes, if she chose. She was starting to have the sneaking suspicion that Badger was genuine. He actually wanted to meet her again. But then, Badger had no idea who she was.
The man in question slid onto the curved, red leather couch at which River sat and poured himself a cup of tea. “So, think you’ll share your story with me this time, love? Now circumstances are rather less charged, what with me not ‘aving a gun to your friends’ heads an’ all. If mem’ry serves, you made quick work of changin’ the subject that day. Didn’t get so much as your name... Come to think, what is your name?”
“Call me Isabel.”
Badger smiled, “Isabel. Izzy. ‘S a good name, doubt it’s yours, but ‘s a good name all the same. Now you come from Muir, Diton colony, that much I know.” He peered at her momentarily, “I reckon you’d just ‘bout learned to walk by the time I went my own way, give or take a year or two. So I’m left wonderin’, what ‘appened? Story can’t be a happy one. You’re too young to be as ‘verse-weary as you are, Izzy.” He frowned suddenly, “Something ‘appen back home? ‘S everyone all right there?”
River blinked in surprise at the concern that had flashed into weighty existence on Badger’s face. “Yeah, yeah, things is fine. Same ol’ boring Diton, y’know? Still had the Shu Lien garage warrin’ with the McCarthy’s, Logan family was gettin’ bigger an’ bigger, no one’s yet worked out ‘ow they all fit under that saggy roof they got- same ol’ Diton.” Reading Badger got easier as she went on. He was staring at her like she was Father Christmas pulling fond memories from a sack; not an inaccurate image, in fact. “Oh, you’ll never guess whose gettin’ married.”
“Who?” Badger asked, enthralled, “Not-”
“Alan Cready from down Fleet Street. Found a girl on Athens, or so I heard it.”
“A girl? You’re jokin’. I coulda’ sworn the littlest Cready was sly as a balloon, an’ I ain’t seen ‘im since he was ten.”
“Guess you was wrong way back when.”
Badger cast his head back with a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, “I tell ya’, Izzy, as cold water to a thirsty soul, so’s good news from a far country. More tea?”
A sudden racket near the office’s entrance stopped Badger mid-pour. A very masculine voice bellowed his name. Badger’s brow furrowed, “Get out of sight, Izzy.”
River moved quickly, ducking under Badger’s desk. Judging by the sound of the intruder’s footsteps, River estimated his height at about six foot three. Her suspicions were confirmed when she spotted massive, filthy boots enter the office, powdering Badger’s rug with marketplace dust. “An’ what service can I provide for you today, Mr. Hatchet, now you’ve interrupted my tea?” Only a reader like River would have been able to pick out anything but cool impertinence in Badger’s voice.
“I don’t take it you heard the news, Badger,” Hatchet’s voice was slimy with cruel pleasure.
“I’ve always said a man ought to keep up with current events, why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Your cousin Charles is dead. Moron tried to clean out Bhima’s place this morning, got himself slit throat to belly. Thing of it is, ‘fore he went and did that bit of hútúshì, he plumb forgot he owed me ten thousand in plat’num. Way I figure it, next of kin takes up the debts of the deceased. I’ll be expectin’ you t’deliver my money by nightfall, or I’m coming to get it, and you don’t want that. We clear?”
Badger barely missed a beat, “Crystalline, Hatchet. Have your coin for you after supper, agreed?”
“Agreed. Don’t try nothin’ fancy now, Badger, or I might make you resemble your cousin in more ‘n just looks.”
“I appreciate the warning. You have a lovely day, Mr. Hatchet.”
The massive boots exited with a grunt. Once all sound of them had gone, River climbed out from under the desk. Badger was standing, very still, near the couch. River, who felt it coming a mile away, didn’t flinch when Badger snatched a cup off of the table and hurled it against the wall, shouting, “Bloody wanker! Zhoú de dāi zi! Supposed to come to me when there’s trouble not bugger off an’ do something so patently chi dún as hold up Bhima, of all the people on the gorram planet. Charles, you sodding brainless, useless hwun dan, if you weren’t dead I’d bloody kill you myself!” Badger paused in his tirade, took a few deep breaths through flared nostrils, and turned still blazing eyes on River, “Got anythin’ to say to your sad little king, Izzy?”
River considered her words very carefully, “Sorry for your loss.”
Bitter laughter accompanied his response, “Yeah, ain’t we all.”
“Haven't got the plat’num, have you?”
“Give the girl a prize,” Badger snarled, “Hardly anyone on this rock has that kind of coin, least of all my cousin Charles.”
“But Bhima does?”
“Drops merchants gen’rally do, Izzy. ‘Specially ones run as tight an operation as Bhima.” The man scowled into the middle distance, lacing his fingers together and stretching them across the back of his head. His deeply suppressed panic spit and stung at River.
“Tight, but not impenetrable, yeah?” she asked, barely listening. Her mind was working, ticking over this intriguing conundrum as it would any other.
“I s’pose that’s right,” Badger replied slowly. When she looked, she found his eyes on her, “Why d’you ask?”
She shrugged, “‘S a long walk back to Serenity if Mr. Hatchet sees fit to end you tonight, innit?”
“None you can’t make on those legs of yours, Izzy.” He grinned at her sideways and pointed a finger, “You- you want to help me out of this little situation, that it? You’re an honorsome soul like our dear Captain Reynolds, ain’t ‘cha? Admit it.”
River assumed a pose of intense hauteur, nose in the air and arms crossed, “If it pleases you to think so, who’m I to stop you?”
Badger snickered, “If you’ve a way to keep me breathin’ through tomorrow, you can be whoever you like. Queen of this sad little hill, if that’s your wish.”
River fixed him with a flat stare, “Surely then I could die happy.”
“Me as well, long as it’s some years hence. Now, bright thing as you are, have you any suggestions as to where we might acquire ten plat’num grand by the day’s end?”
“One or two, an’ they all want more intel on this Bhima bloke. Give me what you’ve got.” She slid back into her seat on the couch.
Badger followed suit, face focused and serious, “Gladly.”
---
“I need to be closer.”
“This is as close as we get, Izzy, an’ it’s well close enough for my eyes. Why you want to climb in the man’s pocket anyway? We’re takin’ a fat risk from right here, I’ll have you know.”
“Shh,” River hissed, “Can’t you see I’m thinkin’? Bloody ‘ell, you jabber worse than my mum.”
River would’ve admitted that her reconaissance mission could’ve used more cover, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Hatchet’s deadline dictated which category she and Badger fell into. So, she allowed only what bit of herself was necessary to peek around the corner of the dilapidated Eavesdown warehouse and get a good look at the inimitable Bhima.
By Badger’s telling, the drops dealer’s reputation spread over four worlds. Strict. Ruthless. Professional. Could hold a conversation as blood dripped down the knife he stuck in your belly, if you crossed him. Every merchant from Persephone to Athens lived in fear of coming under Bhima’s personal attention. “Fine, he’s the stuff of your worst è mèng, I see,” River had said, “But what’s his weak spot?”
Badger had snorted, “Dunno. Couldn’t see a swift kick in the bollocks taking him down, to be honest.”
“Let me put it another way. What makes him the angriest?”
“Easy- make trouble for his family. He’s got a big one, spread out like, so’s he can have his fingers in as many pies as possible. If anythin’ takes his mind off business, ‘s a threat to his kin.”
River had smiled, slow and wide, “Was hopin’ you’d say just that.”
So there she crouched, taking in the sight of a dusky-skinned man in his late middle age, surrounded by other men who all had the look of well-trained guard dogs- somber and not too bright. Many of them bore at least a passing resemblance to Bhima himself. They marched halfway across the cracked pavement behind the warehouse to meet a smaller contingent of men, the gaudily-dressed leader of whom stepped out to meet Bhima. The two began talking, too far away to be heard.
“That’s a deal goin’ down there, I’m sure of it,” Badger whispered, “Man he’s chatting up is Vlad Shu, ‘nother drops merchant, smaller time but not by much.”
“Perfect. Now can you manage to shut your gob for thirty solid seconds?” Badger had provided better than barebones information on Bhima, but River needed much more if their plan was going to work. She needed to read Bhima. However, their distance worried her enough to drop the Isabel mask in favor of applying all her energy to the read. That meant Badger couldn’t interrupt her, because he would be talking to River, not Izzy.
She closed her eyes, let her mind reach out to the cloud of thought behind the warehouse. Tension was high- this was a big deal. Lots of coin coming in, lots of product going out. A big profit. River could still hear Bhima’s early morning motivational speech about what happened to those who failed him echoing in the heads of his thugs. River sought beneath the men’s twanging nerves for a mind that wasn’t like the rest. She found it in the cool, smooth, and woefully indistinct mind of Bhima. River delved in as much as she could, but it was like wading into a puddle.
“And that’s thirty,” Badger said from far away, “Come along now, Izzy, you’ve had a good enough look.”
“But I didn’t-” The man was already pulling her away, merging with the Eavesdown foot traffic and failing to keep the hunted expression off his face. River suppressed a sigh and pulled her mask back on.
Chapter Three
Disclaimer: Firefly, you were too good for this world, but if I owned you, you better believe you'd still be on the air.
Word Count: 1,989
Summary: Post-BDM. Badger makes an unexpected demand that leads to an interesting day for River.
A/N: Odd little thing I finally got around to finishing. Please feel free to correct my Britspeak. Chapters posted every other day.
Chapter One
“One good thing about blokes like Reynolds,” Badger said as he peered into the open crate. River could only assume he was talking to her, “Y’can almost always bet they won’t try to screw a man over. So many these days, can’t trust a gorram one, always tryin’ to get more’n they’re worth. Hell, I’ve been known to take my chances for a better cut, from time to time. But blokes like Reynolds, those bloody men of honor- they make a deal, they make a deal. An’ they’ll keep that deal, to the letter, every time. ‘S refreshin’, y’know?”
“I can imagine,” River pretended to sip her tea, “So, satisfied? You got the money you owe us, yeah?”
Badger finally turned away from his new acquisitions, “Right, right. All in good time, gorgeous, no rush. Said I’d ‘ave you back by eveningtime didn’t I? Well, that’s hours away.”
Another exaggerated eye roll allowed River to register each available exit point and potential weapon within the confines of Badger’s office. A benefit of the man’s impromptu soliloquy on the rarity of virtue, it gave her plenty of time to develop several escape strategies, should conditions call for one. If this was a kidnapping, River mused, it was a very poor one. Most of the thugs were at lunch, and they had traveled straight to the office in Eavesdown Docks, hardly an unknown location as far as Serenity’s crew was concerned. Really, River could be free of her... companion in seconds and back on the ship in minutes, if she chose. She was starting to have the sneaking suspicion that Badger was genuine. He actually wanted to meet her again. But then, Badger had no idea who she was.
The man in question slid onto the curved, red leather couch at which River sat and poured himself a cup of tea. “So, think you’ll share your story with me this time, love? Now circumstances are rather less charged, what with me not ‘aving a gun to your friends’ heads an’ all. If mem’ry serves, you made quick work of changin’ the subject that day. Didn’t get so much as your name... Come to think, what is your name?”
“Call me Isabel.”
Badger smiled, “Isabel. Izzy. ‘S a good name, doubt it’s yours, but ‘s a good name all the same. Now you come from Muir, Diton colony, that much I know.” He peered at her momentarily, “I reckon you’d just ‘bout learned to walk by the time I went my own way, give or take a year or two. So I’m left wonderin’, what ‘appened? Story can’t be a happy one. You’re too young to be as ‘verse-weary as you are, Izzy.” He frowned suddenly, “Something ‘appen back home? ‘S everyone all right there?”
River blinked in surprise at the concern that had flashed into weighty existence on Badger’s face. “Yeah, yeah, things is fine. Same ol’ boring Diton, y’know? Still had the Shu Lien garage warrin’ with the McCarthy’s, Logan family was gettin’ bigger an’ bigger, no one’s yet worked out ‘ow they all fit under that saggy roof they got- same ol’ Diton.” Reading Badger got easier as she went on. He was staring at her like she was Father Christmas pulling fond memories from a sack; not an inaccurate image, in fact. “Oh, you’ll never guess whose gettin’ married.”
“Who?” Badger asked, enthralled, “Not-”
“Alan Cready from down Fleet Street. Found a girl on Athens, or so I heard it.”
“A girl? You’re jokin’. I coulda’ sworn the littlest Cready was sly as a balloon, an’ I ain’t seen ‘im since he was ten.”
“Guess you was wrong way back when.”
Badger cast his head back with a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, “I tell ya’, Izzy, as cold water to a thirsty soul, so’s good news from a far country. More tea?”
A sudden racket near the office’s entrance stopped Badger mid-pour. A very masculine voice bellowed his name. Badger’s brow furrowed, “Get out of sight, Izzy.”
River moved quickly, ducking under Badger’s desk. Judging by the sound of the intruder’s footsteps, River estimated his height at about six foot three. Her suspicions were confirmed when she spotted massive, filthy boots enter the office, powdering Badger’s rug with marketplace dust. “An’ what service can I provide for you today, Mr. Hatchet, now you’ve interrupted my tea?” Only a reader like River would have been able to pick out anything but cool impertinence in Badger’s voice.
“I don’t take it you heard the news, Badger,” Hatchet’s voice was slimy with cruel pleasure.
“I’ve always said a man ought to keep up with current events, why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Your cousin Charles is dead. Moron tried to clean out Bhima’s place this morning, got himself slit throat to belly. Thing of it is, ‘fore he went and did that bit of hútúshì, he plumb forgot he owed me ten thousand in plat’num. Way I figure it, next of kin takes up the debts of the deceased. I’ll be expectin’ you t’deliver my money by nightfall, or I’m coming to get it, and you don’t want that. We clear?”
Badger barely missed a beat, “Crystalline, Hatchet. Have your coin for you after supper, agreed?”
“Agreed. Don’t try nothin’ fancy now, Badger, or I might make you resemble your cousin in more ‘n just looks.”
“I appreciate the warning. You have a lovely day, Mr. Hatchet.”
The massive boots exited with a grunt. Once all sound of them had gone, River climbed out from under the desk. Badger was standing, very still, near the couch. River, who felt it coming a mile away, didn’t flinch when Badger snatched a cup off of the table and hurled it against the wall, shouting, “Bloody wanker! Zhoú de dāi zi! Supposed to come to me when there’s trouble not bugger off an’ do something so patently chi dún as hold up Bhima, of all the people on the gorram planet. Charles, you sodding brainless, useless hwun dan, if you weren’t dead I’d bloody kill you myself!” Badger paused in his tirade, took a few deep breaths through flared nostrils, and turned still blazing eyes on River, “Got anythin’ to say to your sad little king, Izzy?”
River considered her words very carefully, “Sorry for your loss.”
Bitter laughter accompanied his response, “Yeah, ain’t we all.”
“Haven't got the plat’num, have you?”
“Give the girl a prize,” Badger snarled, “Hardly anyone on this rock has that kind of coin, least of all my cousin Charles.”
“But Bhima does?”
“Drops merchants gen’rally do, Izzy. ‘Specially ones run as tight an operation as Bhima.” The man scowled into the middle distance, lacing his fingers together and stretching them across the back of his head. His deeply suppressed panic spit and stung at River.
“Tight, but not impenetrable, yeah?” she asked, barely listening. Her mind was working, ticking over this intriguing conundrum as it would any other.
“I s’pose that’s right,” Badger replied slowly. When she looked, she found his eyes on her, “Why d’you ask?”
She shrugged, “‘S a long walk back to Serenity if Mr. Hatchet sees fit to end you tonight, innit?”
“None you can’t make on those legs of yours, Izzy.” He grinned at her sideways and pointed a finger, “You- you want to help me out of this little situation, that it? You’re an honorsome soul like our dear Captain Reynolds, ain’t ‘cha? Admit it.”
River assumed a pose of intense hauteur, nose in the air and arms crossed, “If it pleases you to think so, who’m I to stop you?”
Badger snickered, “If you’ve a way to keep me breathin’ through tomorrow, you can be whoever you like. Queen of this sad little hill, if that’s your wish.”
River fixed him with a flat stare, “Surely then I could die happy.”
“Me as well, long as it’s some years hence. Now, bright thing as you are, have you any suggestions as to where we might acquire ten plat’num grand by the day’s end?”
“One or two, an’ they all want more intel on this Bhima bloke. Give me what you’ve got.” She slid back into her seat on the couch.
Badger followed suit, face focused and serious, “Gladly.”
---
“I need to be closer.”
“This is as close as we get, Izzy, an’ it’s well close enough for my eyes. Why you want to climb in the man’s pocket anyway? We’re takin’ a fat risk from right here, I’ll have you know.”
“Shh,” River hissed, “Can’t you see I’m thinkin’? Bloody ‘ell, you jabber worse than my mum.”
River would’ve admitted that her reconaissance mission could’ve used more cover, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Hatchet’s deadline dictated which category she and Badger fell into. So, she allowed only what bit of herself was necessary to peek around the corner of the dilapidated Eavesdown warehouse and get a good look at the inimitable Bhima.
By Badger’s telling, the drops dealer’s reputation spread over four worlds. Strict. Ruthless. Professional. Could hold a conversation as blood dripped down the knife he stuck in your belly, if you crossed him. Every merchant from Persephone to Athens lived in fear of coming under Bhima’s personal attention. “Fine, he’s the stuff of your worst è mèng, I see,” River had said, “But what’s his weak spot?”
Badger had snorted, “Dunno. Couldn’t see a swift kick in the bollocks taking him down, to be honest.”
“Let me put it another way. What makes him the angriest?”
“Easy- make trouble for his family. He’s got a big one, spread out like, so’s he can have his fingers in as many pies as possible. If anythin’ takes his mind off business, ‘s a threat to his kin.”
River had smiled, slow and wide, “Was hopin’ you’d say just that.”
So there she crouched, taking in the sight of a dusky-skinned man in his late middle age, surrounded by other men who all had the look of well-trained guard dogs- somber and not too bright. Many of them bore at least a passing resemblance to Bhima himself. They marched halfway across the cracked pavement behind the warehouse to meet a smaller contingent of men, the gaudily-dressed leader of whom stepped out to meet Bhima. The two began talking, too far away to be heard.
“That’s a deal goin’ down there, I’m sure of it,” Badger whispered, “Man he’s chatting up is Vlad Shu, ‘nother drops merchant, smaller time but not by much.”
“Perfect. Now can you manage to shut your gob for thirty solid seconds?” Badger had provided better than barebones information on Bhima, but River needed much more if their plan was going to work. She needed to read Bhima. However, their distance worried her enough to drop the Isabel mask in favor of applying all her energy to the read. That meant Badger couldn’t interrupt her, because he would be talking to River, not Izzy.
She closed her eyes, let her mind reach out to the cloud of thought behind the warehouse. Tension was high- this was a big deal. Lots of coin coming in, lots of product going out. A big profit. River could still hear Bhima’s early morning motivational speech about what happened to those who failed him echoing in the heads of his thugs. River sought beneath the men’s twanging nerves for a mind that wasn’t like the rest. She found it in the cool, smooth, and woefully indistinct mind of Bhima. River delved in as much as she could, but it was like wading into a puddle.
“And that’s thirty,” Badger said from far away, “Come along now, Izzy, you’ve had a good enough look.”
“But I didn’t-” The man was already pulling her away, merging with the Eavesdown foot traffic and failing to keep the hunted expression off his face. River suppressed a sigh and pulled her mask back on.
Chapter Three