All things considered, the haul on the Lassiter wasn't half bad, even though it was only, well, half. The coin had afforded Malcolm Reynolds and his crew the luxury of the fine meal spread out before them now: dumplings stuffed with real vegetables, Moo Shu Chicken made with real chicken, and several bottles of real fine rice wine. Mal savored another bite of the exquisite cuisine prepared by Shepherd Book, then savored the sound of his mechanic's dinner table laughter.

The ball of sunshine named Kaylee Frye had nearly been snuffed out by the very real lead pumped into her courtesy of the one-eyed Fed back on Jinye. Fortunately, Serenity's resident fugitive surgeon had once again earned his keep. Simon Tam's skillful doctorin' had Kaylee patched up and back on her feet in just over a week. Mal didn't particularly like the doc, but the man knew his medicine. The risk of having Simon and his kooky sister on board Serenity certainly seemed justified, for now anyway.

More laughter erupted from the galley as the crew continued to pry and speculate about the mystery client awaiting the services of Inara Serra on Beaumonde. The crew knew Inara would never share the identity of a discreet client, but the fun was in trying to decipher who he or she might be.

Mal preferred not to speculate on this subject at all, and chose to just enjoy the good food, laughter, and begin going through his mental list of Beaumonde contacts. "Might as well find some work while we're there," he thought, "this Lassiter money'll dry up eventually." Scooping up another spoonful of Moo Shu, the captain interjected, "When you're done with the quizzin', how bout one of you pass me the plum sauce?"

Simon gave Kaylee what he hoped seemed like a happy smile; he had finally cleared her to join the crew at its regular meals instead of having to live on bland protien gelatin and he could only imagine how happy she was about that. Almost losing her had terrified him, almost enough to finally make him admit his feelings about her.

Almost.

Before Simon had an easy time finding excuses for not trying a relationship with Kaylee; his first responsibility was to River, and he couldn't let anything distract him from that. Then there was the fear that Captain Reynolds would not approve, the man tolerated him and River well enough so long as Simon was useful but the doctor was not about to test the limits of the captain's tolerance and risk getting both of them thrown off the ship. Kaylee was a good friend to River, and he didn't want to take away his sister's only real friend on Serenity; especially since his taking up with Kaylee would mean he might not always give River the attention she needed. The passage of time made those excuses sound increasingly hollow, and nearly losing Kaylee had nearly driven him to tell her the truth, but he kept finding a reason to put it off until he finally lost his nerve completely.

"When you're done with the quizzin', how bout one of you pass me the plum sauce?" Simon was snapped out of his contemplation of Kaylee by the Captain's request, and he politely passed the plum sauce along to the man; it could hardly hurt to do the man a small favor that took no effort and might win him and River a little good will with Captain Reynolds.

That done, Simon decided to check on the two most important women in his life. "River, is everything alright? Kaylee, are you having any problems with with the food?"

Before Mal had a chance to use the plum sauce, Jayne Cobb extracted it off the table and began pouring it generously over his dumplings.

The big mercenary’s face still held the faded bruises of his most recent battles, but just as Inara’s makeup complimented her delicate features so to did the abrasions and contusions add a certain charm to the man’s ruggedly handsome visage. Because of the stitches crisscrossing his cheek and chin, he had allowed his beard to grow longer than usual, blurring the lines of his ever present goatee.

With the subtle shift in his appearance and the wide white smile emanating from his face, one might think that Jayne was experiencing one of his rare moments of civility.

They would be wrong.

Jayne continued to pour the plum sauce, as he spoke to the group,
”You see here’s what I think. I’m thinking that I-nara ain’t got A client at all…I gather from her anxious silence that she’s got herself TWO. Yeah, old Jayne’s got it figured out. I’m bettin’ there’s two snobby boys, girls, or a combination thereof that want to make a tasty Serra sandwich.”

Looking out at the others, Jayne mistook their looks of horror and disgust for confusion. Dropping the sauce, he grabbed one of his dumplings to help illustrate his point,
”You see it’s like her clients is the doughy part, and I-nara is the veggies inside. You see they’re goin’ get her…”

Inara rolled her eyes when Jayne started talking. That man had a sexual imagination above and beyond the norm. While Kaylee wanted to know if her clients brought her flowers, Jayne wanted to know if she was planning a menage a troi with a set of triplets!

”You see it’s like her clients is the doughy part, and I-nara is the veggies inside. You see they’re goin’ get her…”

She held up both hands, palm out to stop him before he went any further, laughing in spite of herself, "Really, Jayne, I think they get it."

Then with a teasing grin, she glanced down the table to Simon, "Do you have your encyclopedia handy?"

Inara let the rest of the table know she was teasing with a sweeping glance that tried to avoid the painful bruising on Jayne's face, "I think we need a clarification of the definition of 'confidential'. Because THAT is what my clients are. Confidential."

The Companion guide to awkward conversations recommends changing the subject as soon as tactfully possible. Inara took the advice to heart, and quickly added, "So what about the rest of you? Are there big plans for Beaumonde?"

Kaylee burst out laughing at Wash’s suggestion for Inara’s next client, her drink almost coming out her nose. After a reminder of why laughing wasn’t a good idea via stomach pains she did her best to stifle it.

Kaylee turned and looked to Simon.

“Only with the chewin’, swallowin’ and digestin’. Other than that it tastes great. Shepherd how do you always make things taste so gorram good?” She asked, her one hand had slipped under the table, checking at her stomach. After confirming for the twentieth time that she wasn’t bleeding she put her hand back above the table. She knew Simon did a good job on her but it still felt like she’d pulled the wound open every time she moved. Feeling like all eyes were on her she tried to change the subject, most of the crew had spent the last week mulling over what they could have done to prevent her getting shot, this brooding made her feel worse than the actual injury. The worst offender had been Simon, who aside from almost twenty-four hour a day supervision apologized only every five minutes for her getting shot. Fortunately for her Jayne managed to distract the others. After his guess at who Inara was doing Kaylee chuckled but stifled it quickly.

“OH!” Kaylee called as her eyes lit up with excitement and she almost jumped out of her seat..

“OW!” She added after being reminded of why excitement and quick movements weren’t good things at the moment. She rubbed her stomach but quickly her face was back to it’s previous expression.

“Can I buy a new tool box Capt’n? I can take River and Simon with me, we’ll be good I promise.” She perked up in her seat awaiting her captains response. Her excitement still eminent on her face.

"So what about the rest of you? Are there big plans for Beaumonde?"

Kaylee lit up like a brush fire at Inara's question, right away making plans for a shopping trip for her, Simon, and River. Poor Simon. The girls would probably drag him across half the shopping districts of Beaumonde before they were done; well, Kaylee would, anyway. River might or she might not, depended on her mood, really, and whether she felt like torturing Simon.

As sympathetic as he was toward Simon's foreseeable future, Wash was far more grateful that Kaylee was worked up about her tools and whatnot again. It was a relief to have the resident mechanic up and about, smiling up a storm. She was still a bit shaky, and touched her stomach sometimes, but she was far better than she had been. We should really get Kaylee a set of Zoe's chest armor, he reflected between bites of the chicken. Won't have her wear it all the time, only when we're planetside. He'd have to talk to Zoe about that.

Swallowing thickly to clear his mouth for speech, Wash used his fork to point vaguely in the direction of the planet. "I was thinking of New Dunsmuir. They have a leatherworking shop there, and I've noticed that Zoe doesn't have enough leather vests. That's a serious problem that's gone on for too long- no wife of mine will be deprived of the benefits of cow-dom." Wash flashed a grin at Zoe at that last part. "What kind of husband would let that happen?"

That wasn't the only thing he'd be doing in New Dunsmuir, though. Before he got Zoe that vest he'd see if there were any strawberries for sale in the markets. Kaylee's love for the berries bordered on obsession, and she certainly deserved more than a few. If he was lucky, there might even be the chocolate kind.

Zoë listened to everyone discuss their plans for Beaumonde as she savored the food in front of her. She, like everyone else, recognized how lucky they all were. A battle had been fought, and they had all made it out alive. Some, barely. They were all glad to be together sharing good food and planning some downtime. Even Jayne's dumbass remarks couldn't bother her tonight.

"I was thinking of New Dunsmuir. They have a leatherworking shop there, and I've noticed that Zoe doesn't have enough leather vests. That's a serious problem that's gone on for too long- no wife of mine will be deprived of the benefits of cow-dom. What kind of husband would let that happen?"

Zoë grinned back at her husband. She adjusted the napkin that was tucked in his shirt. "That's one plan. But I had a few of my own." She gave him a teasing look and then took a drink of her wine.

And then the inevitable thought came into her head. This definitely would not last long. It never did.

Kaylee's enthusiasm was contagious, and Inara was pleased that her ploy worked so well. Kaylee was as predictible as the rotation of the planets, and she just needed the tiniest push in the right direction to send her into orbit.

However, the reminder of the lost tools and equipment that the cheery mechanic needed to do her job was yet another reminder of the sticking aft jet controls on Inara's shuttle.

The last thing Inara wanted right now was to start a fight, especially when everyone was having a wonderful evening. Especially with Malcolm Reynolds. But her shuttle was her independence, her means of living, and having it malfunction was a complication that she certainly didn't need.

So was breaking her fragile peace with Mal.

Inara took a sip of her tea and layered a hopeful smile and a slightly raised eyebrow down the table. "Hopefully, Kaylee can get the tools she needs and the problems with my shuttle can be resolved?"

She hoped to avoid open war over the topic by using Kaylee as a leveraging tool. After all, how could Mal say no to that glowing face when it had only been weeks since they had almost lost her?

Plum sauce swiped, Mal made a jab-the-chopstick-in-your-eye gesture at Jayne before replying to his giddy mechanic, "Well, lil' Kaylee, if you see somethin' to your liking while you're scroungin' up parts for the Ambassador's shuttle, I think we can swing it." He shot her a wink, reclaimed what was left of the plum sauce, then half-smiled at Inara and continued, "Your shuttle's in good hands...Kaylee'll have it up and runnin' again by the time you get back."

Of course, Mal could have let Kaylee cannibalize the needed parts from the other shuttle and let Inara go about her business, but that would have left the crew shuttleless for the next 4-5 days. Instead, this morning he'd "offered" to personally escort Inara to her rendevous in the working shuttle, then return for her after the conclusion of her "business". Naturally, objections were made, euphemisms were exchanged, and facial expressions were...expressed, but Mal was insistant, and the Companion finally yielded to his captainy stubborness.

Before that conversation could get rekindled, Mal quickly changed the subject, "I suspect I'll round us up another job fairly quick, so don't any of you get to wanderin' off for too long once we get planet-side."

“Only with the chewin’, swallowin’ and digestin’. Other than that it tastes great." Simon smiled at Kaylee's answer, admiring the spirit with which she was handling her injuries. As Kaylee almost jumped up in excitement, only to give a cry of pain and drop a hand to her stomach, Simon instinctively reached out towards her, but pulled his hands back before they made contact. In any case she seemed to be more or less alright; it was not the first time the excitable engineer had forgotten about the effects of her injuries.

Simon returned his attention to his food, trying to build up his nerve for what he needed to do next. Treating Kaylee's injuries had been much easier when the girl was unconscious; it was hard to remain calm and detached when she was awake and smiling, making him all too aware of the fact that most of her shirt had to be taken off for him to change the dressing on her injuries. While she was almost completely healed now, Simon had no intention of getting sloppy and allowing her to get an infection by not properly taking care of her injuries, even if that meant that he had to be a bit nervous and uncomfortable.

Having finally built up his nerve, Simon spoke. "Kaylee, after dinner we need to..." Simon cleared his throat. "Go to the infirmary and ... change the dressings on your wounds." The last six words tumbled out in a sudden rush. Smooth, real smooth. Oh well, at least I didn't say anything completely idiotic ... yet.

“Oh.. okay. Not a problem.” She replied then realizing his awkwardness.

“Ain’t nothin’ t’be ashamed of. Gotta do yer job.” She added not really thinking much of it. She wondered momentarily what he was so nervous about changing a bandage but finding no conceivable answer continued her meal. She heaped on one more large lump of mashed ‘protatoes’ as she called them, a genius concoction of Shepherd Book's which gave protein the familiar taste and texture of potatoes, minus the appearance. Looking up she saw Jayne’s plate was similar in size to her. It gave her an idea.

“Hey Jayne. Wanna race? You only beat me by two bites last time. I think I’m due for a win.” She said referring to a game the two had where they raced to see who could polish off their plate the fastest. Not giving him a chance to accept she dug into her meal, filling her face as fast as she could while still making time to actually chew. The swallowing again reminded her why this was a bad idea but it was too late, she wanted to beat Jayne. Being hurt and doing it would add extra bragging rights.

"Go to the infirmary and ... changethedressingsonyourwounds."

Jayne rolled his eyes and commented with a mouth full of dumpling…bits of it flying from his mouth as he spoke,
”Gorram boy! What’d you just say…must be Tam-ese for ‘let me take a gander at your girl-parts’.”

Jayne paid little attention to the next few moments of conversation. He simply lowered his head and started to devour the food on his plate.

He wanted to look at Kaylee as she spoke…watch her hair bounce across her face as she giggled…watch her eyes dance across the table and hope they met his…, but he didn’t trust himself. Not since Jinye.

Trouble was Jayne knew that if he looked at her, he’d be looking at her different…looking at her with his heart. Most of the others wouldn’t notice…hell the others didn’t think of him unless someone needed to uncork a bottle of violence, and they’d ignore any change in his gaze…

…but she wouldn’t. Inara.

The prissy whore would see through him right quick. Just like she saw through that half-sly Simon.

Jayne Cobb couldn’t risk it, so he simply lowered his head and ate.

“Hey Jayne. Wanna race? You only beat me by two bites last time. I think I’m due for a win.”

The mercenary's eyes shot up, as she spoke, and his chopsticks whirled, as he tried to catch up to the little mechanic.

But he was a little too slow…not enough to make it look like he threw it…but a bit late none-the-less.

”Kao! I don’t know what to make of you Frye. You’re about the size of a duck fart, but you eat like a gorram Reaver with a tapeworm. Ruttin’ confoundin’ is what it is.”

Careful not to let his eyes linger on her any longer than necessary, Jayne pushed himself back from the table but didn’t stand,
”Reckon I’ll go hit the showers and scrub down the boys…any of you ladies care to watch? I know Zoe ain’t never seen a man naked.”

Kao! I don’t know what to make of you Frye. You’re about the size of a duck fart, but you eat like a gorram Reaver with a tapeworm.

Inara found herself pushing away her half-full plate and laying down her fork. If there was one fault in the tantric practice of living with all of ones senses, it was that when one sense was offended, the rest were affected. Her smile was tight, and she had to resist the urge to rub her brow as she choked down a final bite of her spoiled meal. "I believe I'm finished."

Soon, she promised herself, she would be dining in the finest establishments on Beaumonde, enjoying the company of society. No more scraping up burned tools in darkened corridors. No more watching those around her torn by senseless violence. Her real life was beckoning. Four blessed days and nights in the comfortable company of her old friend Raymond Belland- Sir Belland, now- luxuriating in his adoration and admiration with nothing to remind her...

”Reckon I’ll go hit the showers and scrub down the boys…any of you ladies care to watch? I know Zoe ain’t never seen a man naked.”

...remind her of that.

Inara rolled her eyes in what she knew was an unflattering manner. Unfortunately, that brought her gaze to rest on him. Mal was smiling, his blue-grey gaze dancing as he waited for Zoe to smack Jayne down with one of her terse retorts, or for Wash's self-deprecating humor to defuse the situation.

There was a droplet of plum sauce on the corner of his lip, waiting to be licked off. She found her tongue sliding along her lower lip before she realized she was starting to stare and quickly returned her gaze to her plate.

Yes, it was definately time to get back to her real life.

<< Admin Plot Progression >>

Beaumonde - Zhe Han Docks, Dusk:
The crew is gathered in the cargo bay, preparing to go planetside. Earlier, after supper, Mal received a wave from one of his Beaumonde contacts with a lead on a job. Seems a couple of local businessmen named Fanti and Mingo have some sort of smuggling or transport job for the right crew. To insure the crew is indeed "right", this Fanti and Mingo have insisted upon meeting not only the captain of each perspective crew, but the first officer, pilot, and mechanic as well.

This of course has thrown a monkey-wrench into everyone's plans, including Zoe & Wash's R&R, Kaylee's toolbox shopping, and Mal's escorting of Inara to her secretie-type client. Since Simon has agreed to accompany Book to the abbey for some charity doctorin' (with River in-tow), only one crew member is available for mandatory Inara escort duty: a grinnin' Jayne Cobb...

Common sense. Long ago, Malcolm Reynolds learned that the uncertainties of this 'verse are best headed-off by accepting some common sense certainties. One of those certainties is the notion that the words comin' out a man's mouth can lead to all manner of unpleasantness and hurt when not thought through. Common sense keeps a fella from conjurin' up words that have no business occupyin' the same sentence with other trouble-causin' words. For example, Mal was fairly certain that words like "the ship is yours", "hold onto the coin", and "watch my back" should never be uttered in the same breath as the trouble-causing word "Jayne".

So when the words "Inara, Jayne'll be escortin' you to your client..."escaped Mal's lips, he paused, as if searching the pockets of his mind for the keys to his common sense, then continued, "...in shuttle two. Sorry for the change of plans, but I've got to see about a new job for the crew." The thought of her confined in a shuttle with Jayne didn't sit well with the captain, and he guessed Inara wasn't too giddy about it either. Couldn't be helped though...someone hands you an opportunity, you see to it. Otherwise, you live under the Alliance's thumb, starve, or both.

Mal pulled out his revolver, checking the cylinder he already knew to be fully loaded. "Jayne, you get back here to Serenity soon as you drop her off. I reckon we'll be needin' you if we get this job," he said, sliding the sidearm back in it's duster concealed holster.

"Zoe, Wash, Kaylee, not sure why this Fanti and Mingo feel it necessary to 'sess my crew for this job, but Granger says these two are good for a steady stream a work if they cotton to us, so I ain't inclined to question at the moment. They operate out of a dive called the Maidenhead, not far from the docks, we'll head over there shortly. Shepherd, we'll send you and the Doc a wave to the abbey t'let you know when we'll be shippin' out again...and Doctor," he said firmly, looking the direction of River Tam, "you keep a leash on that one. I ain't chasin' after her again like we did on Persephone, dong ma?" Mal hadn't forgotten their encounter with the blue-gloved freaks at Badger's place last time River ran off, and he wasn't too keen on runnin' in to them again any time soon.

"Inara, Jayne'll be escortin' you to your client...in shuttle two. Sorry for the change of plans, but I've got to see about a new job for the crew."


"Mal!" Inara stared at Mal in disbelief, biting back the many words that longed to stream from her mouth, most of them in Chinese. Only the brief pause in his words kept her in check. He didn't like this either, was probably trying to avoid a fight. Control, Miss Serra. First lesson is control. She took a deep breath and spoke in politely measured tones, "Sir Belland is a very important person, and I already had to pull alot of influence to get you security clearance."

She realized too late that she'd actually named her client, but it didn't matter now. A glance towards Jayne showed he was amused as hell over the situation. It was intolerable.

If Mal was insisting that she take... she searched her mind briefly for a suitable acronym, something that began with wang ba dan and ended with tsao ba guai, but finally had to settle for the given Jayne..."Taking Jayne is out of the question."

Deep down, she knew arguing wasn't going to work. All of the tools at her disposal; pleading, reasoning, pouting; Mal seemed immune to them all. So she clenched her slender fingers into knots at her side, and made an attempt at staring him down.





wang ba dan- bastard
tsao ba guai-very ugly

"Zoe, Wash, Kaylee, not sure why this Fanti and Mingo feel it necessary to 'sess my crew for this job, but Granger says these two are good for a steady stream a work if they cotton to us, so I ain't inclined to question at the moment. They operate out of a dive called the Maidenhead, not far from the docks, we'll head over there shortly.

Kaylee nodded to the Capt’n, but was more interested in watching Inara. She knew Jayne would be far down on Inara’s list of escorts, what she knew was soon further proven.

"Mal! Sir Belland is a very important person, and I already had to pull alot of influence to get you security clearance. Taking Jayne is out of the question."

Kaylee thought to speak up in defense of Inara but didn’t want to offend Jayne she merely wanted to help Inara. She decided to stay quiet as nothing she could say would have an affect on Mal’s decision anyway. She instead pulled herself up onto a crate happy to allow those two solve their marital problems.

She glanced over at Simon, then Jayne. Two men she’s had affection for. Jayne was her first crush on the ship, other than Bester who didn’t really count. Jayne was handsome, rugged and muscular. Sure his manners were lacking but that wasn’t his fault. Not everyone had the luxury of a proper upbringing and beneath all his crudeness was a heart of gold. Though it eventually became obvious that Jayne could never be a one woman man, not like Simon could. Simon while not as large as Jayne still had plenteous pretty ripples all over his body. Simon also had refinement, the aforementioned proper upbringing and if he wasn’t the most swai doctor she’d ever seen. He was smart, sardonically funny and caring. She envied how he looked after his sister, would do anything for her, would die for her. She wondered if ever he might care for her like he did River. She sighed as she dazed off her eyes fixed on Simon now.

Jayne watched the drama unfolding between Mal and Inara with more than a hint of amusement. Honestly, he didn’t feel put upon in escorting the Companion…

…but there was no fun in letting the others know that.

"Mal! Sir Belland is a very important person, and I already had to pull alot of influence to get you security clearance. Taking Jayne is out of the question."

What Cobb believed to be a suitable scowl descended over his features, as he turned toward Reynolds,
”She’s right, Mal. I ain’t the man to be holdin’ her hand to one of her dandy Johns. Hell, that fella puts an eye on me he’s likely to feel so inadequate that he won’t be able to stiffen up and head for I-nara’s nethers.”

Jayne’s scowl turned pious, as his great shoulders shrugged in acceptance,
”Seems I have that effect on weaker men.”

Suddenly the big mercenary exploded into motion, gesturing back and forth between Mal and Serenity’s pilot,
”If’n you don’t believe me, ask Wash. He’s had to live under my manly shadow, and you seen what it’s done to him!”

During the response, his voice rose a bit accentuating ‘manly shadow’, and when he was finished a satisfied grin cracked his bruised face.

Leaning toward Mal, Jayne whispered the last…just loud enough for all to hear,
”Plus, me-thinks the whore doth prospects too much.”

Wash, obviously not paying too much attention to the discussion, had made himself comfortable. He lounged on a pile of crates near Zoe, his feet braced on either side of one crate and his back rested against another, with arms resting on his lap. He smiled, thinking to himself about new horrible demises for his plastic dinosaurs.

Wash jerked slightly when he heard his name suddenly mentioned. Seeing Zoe nod next to him, Wash decided to go with the flow. "Ok, Mal," he said, and bobbed his head.

Kaylee, who happened to be in his line of sight, was ogling Simon and Jayne, her eyes finally coming to rest on Simon. She sighed; obviously she must have been deeply concentrating on the topic at hand.

He checked to see if Simon was looking their way. He wasn't. Trying to catch Kaylee's eye, Wash winked outrageously and tossed a thumbs up the mechanic's way.

He then began listening just in time to hear Jayne's booming voice. But when wasn't it loud enough to wake the dead? ”If’n you don’t believe me, ask Wash. He’s had to live under my manly shadow, and you seen what it’s done to him!”

Wash turned his head to see Jayne completely and said completely deadpan, "You're right, Jayne. I didn't want to admit it, but I've always felt emasculated around you- your ridiculously large supply of weapons has to be some sort of aphrodisiac. What woman could resist the pheremones from your armpits? Anyway, Mal," he said, effortlessly switching topics, "what do we know about these guys? I know your contact says they'll pay us in heaps of filthy lucre, but what do we actually know about these people? Aside from the obvious: rich and in need of shady smuggling types."

He paused. "Well, my assumption is that they're probably demented, since they're going to hire us, and they're not feds. So... Crazy could be good. I mean, Jayne's crazy and we all like him. By the way, Jayne," he said with a smirk, "I was completely and utterly ignoring you earlier. What kind of babble were you trying to pass off on me?" He leaned over nearer Zoe and said in a loud stage-whisper, "Whatever he was saying, it was lies, all lies!"

"You didn't chase me . . . you followed me. But whenever I turn around, you run. They chase. Everyone runs."

River looked over at Inara, than Jayne.

"You start talking, but you can't finish it. You talk . . . and talk . . . but you're not saying anything. When she has nothing to say . . . her lips are sealed. Where will you run when there's nowhere to go? How will you hide when the mask comes off?"

She looked back at Inara.

"Her voice is silent. Only once, in the dark. Said it once."

"Why say it again?"

She looked back at Jayne.

"Besides, you meant to say protest. And it's the Lady. Shakespeare."

"Doctor," Mal said firmly, looking the direction of River Tam, "you keep a leash on that one. I ain't chasin' after her again like we did on Persephone, dong ma?"

Simon frowned at the captain's tone, annoyed by the way he talked as if River was not even there, treating her like a thing instead of a person. He considered confronting the man over his rudeness, but provoking a confrontation with Mal would accomplish little, and Simon was painfully aware of how dependent he and River were on the Captain's good graces.

He noticed Kaylee looking his way and briefly met her eyes, then got and went over to her. "Ah ... how are you feeling Kaylee? Are you in any pain? Is your dressing still in place? Are you going to be alright while I'm gone?" Will I ever manage to tell you how I feel?

"Besides, you meant to say protest. And it's the Lady. Shakespeare."

Simon smiled at River's regal correction of Jayne's crudeness; he always enjoyed seeing the uncivilized mercenary taken down a peg, and having his sister score the victory made it all the sweeter. River's words also rekindled Simon's hopes that he could one day cure his sister; it was exactly the sort of thing she would have said before the Academy, and she delivered it in the high-handed and bratty tone she had perfected at four years old when she started correcting his homework. It looks like she's having a good day. I hope I can find a way to make every day be a good day for her...

His mood improved by River's good condition, he turned to the Shepherd and asked, "How soon are we planning to leave?"

"How soon are we planning to leave?"

Book looked outside at the busy atmosphere of the docks, then back at the young doctor. “I spoke with Brother Matthias earlier about you and River’s need for…discretion in coming to the Abbey, so he is sending a groundcar to pick us up. It should be arriving any minute now.”

As though on cue, an elegant but obviously old black car pulled up near the ramp to the cargo bay. The driver’s door opened and a relatively young man in a monk’s habit got out. The kid looked quite nervous about his surroundings and Book wondered if he had ever been outside the abbey walls before. He spotted Book in his Shepherd's clothes and let out a breath of relief.

“Shepherd Book? Abbot Matthias sent me to take you and your guests to Strangleford Abbey.”

Book nodded to the man. “Of course. You have our thanks. We will be just a moment.” He turned to Mal. “I have a comm if we are needed.” Or if something goes wrong, as it often does. I swear, the Lord seems dead set to test that man at every turn with all the circumstances that stack against him. A slight smile on his face, the Shepherd now looked at Simon and River and motioned to the waiting vehicle with one hand, the other holding his Bible.

“After you Doctor.”

"Well, my assumption is that they're probably demented, since they're going to hire us..."

No guarantee of that, really. The Captain had been trying to get Granger to set up a meet with Fanti and Mingo for a couple of years now. Granger always gave some reason or another: "They's real discreet-like, Mal...job ain't right for for that go se boat of your's, Mal...yore crew ain't right for the job they got, Mal." Zoe wondered what had changed. She never trusted Granger, not since Du Khang.

Whatever he was saying, it was lies, all lies," her husband whispered jokingly in her ear. Wash was of course referring to the ever crude Jayne, not Elijah Granger. Still, it was like he'd pulled the thought right outta her mind, as it often seemed he could....

"Her voice is silent. Only once, in the dark. Said it once....why say it again?"

...and then there was River Tam. Zoe liked the girl, felt pity for her and Simon. What the Alliance had done to her, whatever they'd done to her, wasn't right. But there was no two ways about it: River had a way about her that was down right...well, "creepifying", as the Captain would say. It was one thing for her man to be inside her head, that was something that just happened with married folk, but Zoe had a strict "keep out" policy with anyone else, Alliance tamperin' or not.

She turned her attention elsewhere, hopped off the crates, walked over to the Captain and said quietly, "I know you've been wanting to meet with these two for a while, sir...but do we really want to be trustin' Elijah Granger? I don't like it."

Mal pretended to ignore Inara's objections by pretending to listen to River's ramblings. Fortunately, the arrival of the monk-lookin' fella at Serenity's cargo bay ramp provided a much needed distraction.

“Shepherd Book? Abbot Matthias sent me to take you and your guests to Strangleford Abbey.”

The Shepherd acknowledged the young man, then turned to the Mal, “I have a comm if we are needed.” The Captain nodded at the preacher, just as Zoe approached to express her doubts about Granger. He figured she'd have something to say at the mention of that name, and she was likely right. Granger'd nearly gotten Zoe killed in the Battle of Du Khang. She wasn't ever lettin' go of that or likely to trust anything Granger-related anytime soon. The way Mal saw it though, most of their contacts couldn't be trusted much anyway, so this meet, Elijah Granger or no, wasn't different than any other.

"No, Zoe, you don't like Granger...I don't care for him much either, but we ain't had a lot of luck finding jobs on Beaumonde, and this is our in."

"Sir, he's a coward and crook," she whispered.

"So are we...well, crooks anyhow...sometimes. Point is, it's a job that could lead t'more. It'll go fine as long as we keep our heads about us," replied the Captain, trying to pass off a reassuring look, "it's just a meet up anyhow, we don't have to take the job if it smells wrong, okay?" he lied, quietly.

Not wanting to discuss the topic any more, he turned away, only to again make eye contact with a glaring Inara and another topic he didn't want to discuss further.

"Look, Inara, soon as we're done with this thing at the Maidenhead, I'll get Kaylee t'workin on that shuttle of yours...she'll have it flyin' again in no time, ain't that right, Kaylee?" he said, looking for some support from his mechanic. "Mean time, Jayne'll drop you off and head right back here, right, Jayne?, he said in his best no-nonsense tone.

"Now then,", he moved on, looking at Zoe, Wash, and Kaylee, "four of us best be headin' out. Jayne, the ship is y...lock up Serenity good before you leave. Inara," he paused, having last second doubts about leaving her with Jayne, "send us wave when you're ready to be picked up from Sir Fancypants' place."

Mal gave Jayne one last "behave yourself" look, then ushered his crew down the ramp and into the bustle of Beaumonde.
-------------------
Shepherd, Simon, River, start posting HERE
Kaylee, Wash, Zoe, start posting HERE.

<< Since I'm NPCing Zoe, I took the liberty of god-moding her in this post. -j >>

A Companion must at all times appear the epitome of virtue, beauty, and control. She must remain sensuous, kind, generous, and, above all, demure and ladylike.

"Ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng Kuh-ooh duh lao bao ju...! "

So when the stream of Mandarin insults echoed towards Mal's departing back, Inara Serra was very certain that they were not coming from her mouth. Until she recognized her own voice and clamped her lips shut over the vitriolic stream.

"I could just kill him." She murmured much much more quietly to no one in particular. Frowning, she whirled to face the grinning Mr. Cobb, her voice dismissive and cool, "I'm going to finish packing and see if I can get some kind of clearance for you. Call me when you're ready to go."

Leave it to Mal to spoil a perfectly good appointment with a perfectly respectable client! How dare he do this? Fury carried her into her shuttle. Used to having her shuttle at her disposal, she was having a difficult time deciding what to bring.

Several days, amongst society, plus a full range of lingerie, relaxation clothing, at least two gowns, perhaps the peach dress? No, she'd worn peach to an event on Beaumonde several years before. The rose gown, with the beaded shawl...

As she immersed herself in packing, she felt calm slowly return. It would be all right. She was going to have a wonderful time.

And not even Malcolm Reynolds was going to spoil it this time.

Opening Inara’s shuttle door, the Hero of Canton entered in a puff of cigar smoke. He still wore his outfit from earlier…not bothering to change his ‘Fighting Elves’ Tee, cargo pants, and fatigue jacket.

He was the epitome of the cosmopolitan Core Worlds style.

“Ain’t no one or no thing changin’ the way I’m dressed…less the no one happens to be a comely piece of trim with slicked up nethers,” thought the mercenary.

Crinkling his nose at the smell of incense (Jayne still didn’t believe that’s all it was), he examined the seldom seen interior of the Companion’s shuttle, belched, and spoke, ”You said to bring my readiness to your attention, when I was…ready, so here I am…ready, willin’, and hung like a stallion.”

Inara turned at the voice of the crudest mercenary ever to grace a freighter crew, grimacing as the stench of cheap cigar drifted over the orange blossom offranda incense. Eyebrows shot up and she blinked as the acrid scent erased her fragile calm.


As she pulled the handle of her small roller-case up, her eyes scanned Jayne from boot-toe to head top. It took all her will to maintain a calm voice, "I suppose shaving would have been expecting a bit much."

With another sigh, she tugged her roller-case over the edge of one of her luxurious rugs. She was going to kill Mal for this. At least Mal knew how to pretend he was a gentleman! Jayne had no concept of the definition. With a tight smile that may have looked actually friendly on a crocodile, she handed him her small make-up case, her large dress-bag, and her black leather hand-case.

As she led the way across the catwalk to the other shuttle, she tried to explain, " It was too late to get you proper security clearance for landing. Sir Belland said he'd meet us when we arrive, but we can expect some extra security precautions. Sir Belland is a very important person on Beaumonde. His ties to the parliamentary boards..." Trying to explain the politics to Jayne would be like trying to explain gourmet cooking to a reaver, and she let her attempt fall silent.

As she entered the barren, dusty, greasy, and hardly inviting second shuttle, she stopped and looked back at Jayne, "He's a good friend, who I haven't seen in a long time. When we get there, you will..." *mind your manners* *behave* *just don't say anything*..."Can you just try not to offend him? Please?"

"He's a good friend, who I haven't seen in a long time. When we get there, you will...Can you just try not to offend him? Please?"

Jayne followed Inara into the second shuttle and immediately dropped her luggage. As the bags came to a rest around his feet, the big man stepped over the black leather hand case and moved over to the Companion.

With his cigar stuffed in the side of his mouth, Cobb appeared to be suffering from a rare case of civility,
”He ain’t your friend. None of ‘em are. This Sir Belland…that sheep rutter Atherton Wing…none of ‘em.”

He blew a great puff of cigar smoke, pulled his ever present knife from its sheath, and began to cut his finger nails. Jayne’s monolog continued, but instead of looking at Inara, he focused on his cuticle conundrum,
”That’s the troublin’ part to me. Here I’m thinkin’ with all your high falootin’ learnin’, you’d see that you and I share a sameness…” the big man turned his eyes to the woman, ”…in our lines of work, ain’t none gonna call us friend. We’re paid to do what we do best…rutt people up.”

Seemingly satisfied with his impromptu manicure, he returned his knife to its sheath. Looking around for a second, Cobb moved back to Inara’s luggage and stacked her large dress bag on top of her black hand case…before sitting on them both.

”Don’t fret Ambassador, I won’t slight your friend…hell, look at how good Mal and me get along, and he’s your friend too…ain’t he?”

Jayne removed his cigar, so Inara could better see his smile.

Inara resisted the urge to step back from Jayne as he stepped closer.

”He ain’t your friend. None of ‘em are. This Sir Belland…that sheep rutter Atherton Wing…none of ‘em.”

Sheep rutter? Inara felt her eyebrows raise, but she still didn't step back. This was Jayne Cobb, a raw pile of masculinity. She certainly couldn't expect him to understand. However, she could manage him. After all, she could manage a snake like Atherton. Jayne was just a lesser civilized snake, one with brighter colors so you could see him coming.

A fact evidenced when Jayne blew out another wave of disgusting smoke and pulled out his huge... blade. She recognized it as utilitarian, as much an extension of him as her own make-up, her heavy earrings, her laced corset top were for her. A tool of his trade.

But close up, inches from her, she was forced to recognize how large it was. How deadly. Was he trying to intimidate her? No. He didn't understand that kind of subtlety.

Wickedly, she wondered if in carrying such a large tool, he was, perhaps, compensating for something. Now she did edge back again to keep the acrid stench out of her clouds of black curls. It was one thing for the mercenary to reek, but it was hardly the appropriate scent for a Companion.

Inara managed with all of her control to keep her polite smile firmly in place until...

”That’s the troublin’ part to me. Here I’m thinkin’ with all your high falootin’ learnin’, you’d see that you and I share a sameness…in our lines of work, ain’t none gonna call us friend. We’re paid to do what we do best…rutt people up.”

"I what?" While she stared at him, trying to find an appropriate response, he SAT on her luggage! SAT on it! Her right hand reached up of it's own accord to lightly rub her temple where a throbbing headache was beginning.


”Don’t fret Ambassador, I won’t slight your friend…hell, look at how good Mal and me get along, and he’s your friend too…ain’t he?”

As he smirked at her, she resisted the urge to strangle him. Not that she could have if she tried, Spinning around, she headed to the cockpit to begin pre-flight. "My relationship with Malcolm Reynolds is strictly professional."

Suddenly realizing how that sounded, she half-turned, glancing back over her shoulder, "I rent a shuttle from him. And...and it's none of your business."

Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, her fingers running the familiar sequences, she addressed the mercenary in calmer tones, friendly, almost conspiratorial tones, nodding generously as she seemingly agreed with him.

"And yes, Jayne. You are right. We are. exactly. the. same. And since I know that you would never... " She clicked the sequence switches and spun the pilots chair to face him, "rutt up an employment opportunity that was important to you, I also know that you understand why I want this meeting to go well."

She turned the chair back around, muttering half under her breath, "Very well."

"...I also know that you understand why I want this meeting to go well. Very well."

As the Companion spoke, Jayne Cobb stood, walked over to the cockpit, and clapped his hand on Inara’s shoulder. Staring out the shuttle’s window, the big mercenary nodded at the landscape surrounding them…acting as if his very approval gave the planet of Beaumonde validation,
”Oh I understand I-nara. You got yourself an itch that no manner of battery powered mass-ager can scratch.”

Jayne started to laugh,
”Yeah, we’re a lot more alike than ya think. Sometimes I need to fling lead so bad, I’d almost do it for free…almost.”

Cobb’s bulk crashed down in the other seat, and his feet quickly found their way to an unimportant part of the console. A deep belch erupted from his stomach, mixing with his cigar smoke to produce an amazing sensorial display of olfactory delight.

Jayne chomped back down on his cigar,
”So what’s this Belland gonna have in the way of chow? I could eat the gorram ass-end off a dead mule.”

”Yeah, we’re a lot more alike than ya think. Sometimes I need to fling lead so bad, I’d almost do it for free…almost.”

Inara had almost managed to come up with a suitable reply to this when Jayne belched mightily and slammed his heavy boots onto the consul. She resisted the urge to shove them off, and instead casually slipped the shawl from her shoulders, lightly shaking off the imprint of his touch. After all, this wasn't her shuttle. Very obviously not her shuttle.

She forced the central lock release of the shuttle down with a tad more force than was strictly necessary. It was the only outward sign of her frustration.

Enough, Inara. You let him get to you once already. Be done with it.

”So what’s this Belland gonna have in the way of chow? I could eat the gorram ass-end off a dead mule.”

She glanced over at him, one eyebrow raised, before letting her eyes be drawn back to his boots, resting near the fuel guages. What were those? They were huge. Size 14? Size 16?

Miss Serra, size is unimportant. Men like Jayne Cobb need to be needed, need to be useful. She managed a slightly more genuine smile as she turned to her training, and regained her center.

"As fascinating as discussion of your appetites is," Inara replied, her calm restored, her voice a freindly drawl, "Would you be so kind as to move your feet long enough to enter these coordinates into the panel?"

She passed over the coordinates and then gently angled the shuttle up and out of Beaumonde's spaceport. "I'm sure that Sir Belland will have something to assauge even your hunger, Jayne."

Then her smile turned actually genuine, "I'm truly looking forward to this week."

And nothing, not Malcolm Reynolds, not Jayne Cobb, was going to spoil it for her.

"Would you be so kind as to move your feet long enough to enter these coordinates into the panel?"

Shrugging off his fatigue jacket on to the shuttle floor, Jayne transferred his cigar from hand to teeth and bobbed his head at Inara’s request,
”Right...right. Sure thing.”

"I'm truly looking forward to this week."

Focusing more on his one-digit input method than on the comments of his companion, the Hero of Canton misinterpreted Inara’s final statement. With his eyes squinting over the panel, he responded,
”I reckon there are worse things to have put upon you. Truth be known, I ain’t all that broken up to be saddled with you either. Hell, things could be a lot crappier…Mal coulda shackled me to that Tam psycho.”

Finally getting the coordinates set, Cobb’s boots promptly returned to their position on the console.

As he resumed smoking, he engaged in a rarity...thought...

"No, tooling around with Inara wasn’t the worst of things. Hell, he had a chauffeur, a hot meal comin’, and plenty of cigars. Plus, when she quit her talkin’, the Ambassador weren’t half-bad…ain't like she weren’t put together in a shiny manner…’specially her backside."

After a few hearty puffs, Jayne spoke, his manner serious,
”One thing that’s always be a source of ponderin’ for me…when one of yer dandies blows his oil line early, does he get a discount?”

”I reckon there are worse things to have put upon you."


Inara opened her mouth to protest, to clarify her intent, then slowly closed it again. Let him think what he wanted. There was no sense in working herself up any further.

"Truth be known, I ain’t all that broken up to be saddled with you either. Hell, things could be a lot crappier…Mal coulda shackled me to that Tam psycho.”


"River's sweet." Inara protested, glancing down at the jacket on the floor. Was there something wrong with the back of his chair? "She's been through a lot, Jayne. You could try being a little sympathetic towards her. Who knows? You might even find out you like her."


She shot him a sly glance from the corner of her eye, "Or maybe that's what you're afraid of."


”One thing that’s always be a source of ponderin’ for me…when one of yer dandies blows his oil line early, does he get a discount?”

The shuttle gave a brief lurch before she corrected it. As she steadied the yoke, she also steadied herself, surprised to find she was looking forward to, for the first time that day, gaining the advantage. "Let me put it this way. Do you give your clients a discount if your first bullet misses?"

The autopilot took hold and she turned slightly in her seat, her eyes twinkling mischeivously, "Because I can assure you, Mr. Cobb, I..." her voice lowered, her lower lip pouting out just slightly, teasingly, "never stop at just one round."

She looked the big mercenary up and down before turning back to the view-screen dismissively, "Of course, I suppose in your case you would consider that to be a waste of ammunition."



Inara & Jayne continue here- Beaumonde: Belland Estate

Mal & co arrive back at the ship from the Maidenhead, having made a quick stop at "Tully Li's" to pick up parts for Inara's shuttle.

INARA'S SHUTTLE

"Here's the way I'm seein' it Zoe," explained Mal, handing Wash the whatchamazoid part requested by a console consumed Kaylee Frye, "this job really isn't any different from deliverin' a load of hot medical supplies or a herd of cattle...'cept of course the 2000 cred, a steady stream a' work, and a lot less cow poop on our boots. Besides, we've got Wash and Kaylee on our boat, best pilot and mechanic a protein bar can buy, ain't that right you two?"

A small burst of sparks and smoke sizzled and rose from underneath the shuttle's console. Mal turned to Zoe, offering her a half-smile, then back to Serenity's crack pitcrew, "Ain't that right you two?"

Wash had let Mal and Zoe's conversation fade into the background as he and Kaylee worked beneath the console, and only paid enough attention to it so that he could toss off a sarcastic comment later, if the opportunity opened up.

Seeing Kaylee had finally managed to disconnect the broken part from its resting place, Wash stuck a gloved hand out from under the console, waiting expectantly for the new part. Mal was saying something to Zoe, but handed him the new magnetic torquer, which was bacically an electromagnet made out of a wire wound around a tube. Assuming it worked correctly, it'd help the shuttle control altitude and maintain a stable orbit. He had no idea how Kaylee had managed to wrangle this and the other new parts out of Mal's infamously tight pinch on cred, but he suspected that she'd given him a guilt trip of some sort.

Holding the electromagnet firmly, Wash's hand disappeared back beneath the console. A nest of naked technicolor wires hung in front of his face, and he had to bat them aside so he could hold the torquer in it the correct spot for Kaylee. The mechanic started connecting the wires to the new part, and didn't bat an eye when the wires hissed and spit smoke and harmless spots.

Over the noise, Wash heard Mal when the captain spoke again, this time to him and Kaylee, sounding amused. "Ain't that right you two?"

"Don't accept protein bars as payment anymore, Mal. Union rules," Wash said around a mouthful of metal washers.

(Slight godmodding of Kaylee)

Fingers blistered, Kaywinnet Lee Frye persevered and finished her work on the shuttle. It wasn’t one hundred percent but she’d reconfigured and re-routed and re-built everything she could possibly think of. Wash had his own ideas too, which helped the job go fast. She wasn’t sure if it was completely finished or even if it would last. She had to make due with only the small amount of parts Mal afforded her.

“I’m thinkin’ it’s all shiny capt’n. Don’t expect her to sound pretty I had to make a few cutbacks and take some power from other features. Won’t be seein’ any visual’s on wave’s for awhile. I kinda cut brake power too… so uh… fly slow Wash. I mean we still got ‘em but it’s gonna take longer to slow. Shield’s taken a hit t’power too. Figure we only need power ‘nough t’get us by so that should work well fer awhile.” She informed the Mal while still on her back under the console. Wash helped her put the panel back together. The console’s intestines back in place Kaylee stood up and taking off her gloves she revealed somehow still dirty hands.

“I mean it ain’t shiny, shiny but it’ll hold… most likely… I hope…” She offered up a bright grin hoping it would boost their confidence in her work that she herself was still running over in her mind. Always wondering if she did everything,

"I mean it ain’t shiny, shiny but it’ll hold… most likely… I hope…”

"Long as she gets the Ambassador to and fro, s'all that matters for now. Speakin' of, Jayne should have been back from deliverin' her to Sir Fancypants by now...Zoe, contact the other shuttle and see where in the gorram 'verse Jayne is. And while you're at it, give the good Shepherd a shout too, tell him we gotta cut his abbey visit short and t'get himself, the Doc, and the girl back to the ship...tell him sooner'd be better than later."

From down below, a metallic knock echoed about the cargo bay.

"That must be Fanti & Mingo's man, I'll see to him. Zoe, go reel in the rest of the crew. Kaylee, Wash, get Serenity warmed up and ready...we got a race needs t'be won."

<< OOC - This scene takes place after the Rollo flashback/Serenity sabotage post. >>

Glenn waited outside of Serenity, the ship that Fanty & Mingo told him about, his luggage on each side of his feet, consisting of two olive green duffle bags on his left and a black hard case, measuring 60" L x 12" T x 6" W on his right. It was cold outside or it was to him, to everyone else it seemed just right. That was the problem with getting old, you were either cold when it was hot or you were hot when it was cold.


Glenn pounded on the exterior cargo bay door again and hollered "Hey pally! Ya gonna open her up and let me in anytime soon? I'm old, it's cold, and I gotta pee."

"Zoe, contact the other shuttle and see where in the gorram 'verse Jayne is. And while you're at it, give the good Shepherd a shout too, tell him we gotta cut his abbey visit short and t'get himself, the Doc, and the girl back to the ship...tell him sooner'd be better than later."

Zoe nodded coolly in answer. No other response was necessary. She met Wash's eye for a half-second, a singular glance that just said... well... all the things she always knew Wash knew she didn't say, before heading for the Bridge.

She didn't know if Shepherd Book had his com-unit on, seeing as they were in Holy Land, or Sacred Ground, or something or rather, but she clicked on Serenity's portable frequency, "Shepherd Book? I'm sorry, but you and the Doc need to make grace back to the ship. I'm afraid we've got a deadline to meet."

Pausing while she waited for a response, she pulled the com for the second shuttle as well, her voice crisp and business like. "Jayne? What's your ETA? We've got to fly."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth then there was the gentle rocking motion of the shuttle setting down in it's cradle. Gently settin' down, she noted, not Jayne's usual slam-thunk settin' down. Without releasing the com-link she surprised herself by asking outloud, "Inara's back?"

Dropping the com, she strode back through the ship to stand outside the shuttle-lock. What was Inara doing back from her appointment so soon? Call it women's intuition, call it soldier's instinct, but Zoe was pretty gorram sure something had gone wrong.




Zoe temporarily NPC'd by the E.