Beaumonde: Belland's Estate, Serenity: Pedal to the Metal

[Inara Serra]

OOC: Continued from Serenity: Pedal to the Metal


The shuttle came down over the Belland Estate, the acres of green farmland surrounding a huge red-stone manor house, barns, and outbuildings gleaming as Inara guided the shuttle downwards.

In fenced paddocks fine racehorses, their coats gleaming in the sunlight, kicked up their heels and ran from the shuttle as it settled into a side-court garden area surrounded by imported botanicals and marble fountains.

Inara wondered if Jayne was affected by such ostentatiously displayed wealth. Mal would have already made a snarky comment, she was certain. She straightened her gown, touched up her make-up, and gave her accompaniment a final glance-over.

"All right, I'll step out first, greet him, then introduce you. Remember to call him Sir Belland; he's a titled knight. And ... could you lose the cigar? Please?"
She gave the big man a pleading smile, "Just for a few minutes, all right?"

One last adjustment to her gown, one more glance to ensure her hair was perfect, and Inara Serra took a deep breath, smiled her most gracious smile and opened the shuttle door.

And stopped.

A security force of ten armed men stood outside.

"What is this?"

One stood forward quickly, "Miss Serra? We are to escort you and your traveling companion inside, where you will be recieved. Please, come with us."

She scanned quickly for Sir Belland, her eyes narrowing. Of course, she was being paranoid. The entire day had put her off-balance, but she murmured to Jayne hastily, "It's not like him to not greet me directly."

Two of the security team stepped in front of Jayne, gesturing the knife at his belt, "Sir? You'll need to leave any weapons in the aircraft."

[Jayne Cobb]

As the shuttle settled on the pad, Jayne noted the similarities the estate shared with a certain plantation he fondly remembered. He hoped this Sir Belland was as lax with his internal security as Boss Higgins had been. Sure he had a job to do, but Mal never said anything about not being opportunistic…and the rich tended to leave their opulence in plain sight, making any plain dealing crook an idiot for not helping themselves.

Inara’s whining brought him out of his daydream,
"All right, I'll step out first, greet him, then introduce you. Remember to call him Sir Belland; he's a titled knight. And ... could you lose the cigar? Please? Just for a few minutes, all right?"

Rolling his eyes, Jayne squeezed the glowing cherry from the tip of his cigar and stomped it out on the decking. After placing the butt in the breast pocket of his jacket, he bowed to the Companion,
”I live to ruttin’ serve.”

"What is this?"

Jayne ignored Inara and the guards…his mind had gone quiet at the sight of hostility. Thuggish, callous, egotistically, selfish, and an expert…all of these defined the Hero of Canton, but it was to the last persona that he now turned. Above all else, Jayne Cobb was a warrior…one of the greatest in all the ‘Verse.

Jayne smiled. If these boys wanted to get serious, they would need two more huen dahns to break his record.

"Sir? You'll need to leave any weapons in the aircraft."

In one fluid motion, Jayne tossed his knife and sheath back onboard the shuttle and casually moved between Inara and the men. Lifting his jacket and shirt, the mercenary spun around clearly showing he had no other weapons,
”Sorry boys, my pigsticker clean slipped my mind, but you can clearly see, I ain’t packin’ no other heat. Nope not me…I’m a peace-a-fist by nature. Hell, ask anyone and they’ll tell ya ‘ Old Jayne Cobb is a gentleman’s gentleman’.”

Keeping himself between the Companion and the strangers, Jayne sarcastically counted the armed men, using all ten fingers to hold his figure, and smiled at the guard that had addressed Inara,
”Ten hell-strapped boys to pick up one skirt and little old me? Am I missin’ somethin’ or didn’t Mr. Belland invite us here?”

[Inara Serra]

OOS: Whining? A companion doesn't whine, Mr. Cobb...


Inara stepped back as Jayne stepped forward, between her and the men. She knew from the text-wave that she'd recieved that they were to expect hightened security, but surely this was unwarranted!

She had to admit she was pleased with Jayne's restraint. Mal probably would have shot someone and dragged her back onto the shuttle by now. Fortunately she could expect less primitive cave-man like behavior from Jayne in that respect. Then again, it was more likely Jayne would leap back into the shuttle and fly off without her if there was trouble.

Trouble? Inara dismissed the thought with stifled smile. She'd been on Serenity too long if the first thing she thought when confronted with a simple security check was that there was trouble.

”Ten hell-strapped boys to pick up one skirt and little old me? Am I missin’ somethin’ or didn’t Mr. Belland invite us here?”

Oh. Then there was the kind of trouble where Jayne antagonized armed men.

"Routine security procedures, sir. The skirt was expected. You were not." He gestured one of his men who moved around them to the shuttle door, a detection unit in his hand, "I'm afraid we'll have to check your shuttle, as well."

Inara stepped forward, but she stayed a half step behind Jayne's bulk, somehow comforted by it. Still this was her world, she knew how to move in it. Her smile was sweet as honey, but she shot Jayne a glance from the corner of her eye, "Sir Belland is expecting us, but he was expecting Captain Reynolds. I wasn't able to get clearance for you on such short notice."

Nodding her head graciously to the lead security man, Inara gestured towards the house, her bracelets jingling, "However, I'm certain that this can all be cleared up as a matter of course. Please take us to Sir Belland."

[Antoine Artois]

"Sir Belland did indeed invite you."
The crisp rolling accent was followed by a tall and lean man who strolled from around the side of the shuttle, his hazel eyes cool and assessing in the spring sunlight. He strolled forward, hands in his pockets, "However, he is indisposed."

"Hello, Inara. Not happy to see me?" Noting the way the beautiful Companion blanched and stepped even closer to the tall man beside her, Antoine Artois stepped in close, appraising, half extending a hand toward her cheek.

He stopped right before she flinched. Afraid to touch, his voice tender with wonder, "Why, you haven't changed at all. Look at you."

Dropping his hand, he stepped back, and looked between the two. There was stark terror in Inara's eyes, although, to give her Companion training credit, she seemed very far from panicking. His smile altered to something darker.

"And you say this is NOT your famous Captain Malcolm Reynolds? The man who resisted the Alliance at Serenity Valley? The outlaw who stole you away to the far edges of the Rim?"

Stole you away from me. "Honestly, I expected something more..." He allowed his gaze to rake over the stubbled jaw, the stained cargo pants, the old t-shirt, "...impressive. Especially from you, Inara."

Antoine let out a short laugh, "Haven't we enough lies between us?"

Lies. And more lies. And in the end, it would destroy one or the other of them. Or perhaps both of them. Sad, pathetic shades and reflections on the things a man must do for love.

With a mock gesture of a bow to Inara, he offered her his arm. "Come, Inara. I'm not here to harm you."

Then he gave a single wave to his security men, he gestured to Jayne, "Seize Reynolds. Put him somewhere safe. I'll attend to him shortly."

[Jayne Cobb]

"Seize Reynolds. Put him somewhere safe. I'll attend to him shortly."

Jayne’s eyes sparkled with a trickster’s mischief. Technically, he had absolutely no idea what was going on, how this go se burping pretty-boy knew Inara, or why they thought he was Mal…but the violent Cobb knew trouble when he saw it.

Jayne allowed the man with the detection unit to pass on his right, as two others moved to escort him on Artois’s orders. He waited a beat…two…three…till the men had moved between him and the other goons. Yup, your two best friends in a firefight were cover and stupid enemies…it always tickled his ass when you got a two-in-one.

Just as one of the guards reached for his arm, Jayne spun away with surprising speed, blasted the head of the Detection guard with a violent elbow, and placed a speedy boot in the gut of Artois. The two guards closest to him moved to draw their weapons, so he found the next best cover…Inara.

“These idiots want her breathin’...doubt they shoot before thinkin’…and that’s the difference ‘tween me and them…I don’t think,” thought Jayne.

As the Detector guard started to fall, Cobb pulled the man’s pistol from its holster and fired two shots over Inara’s shoulder, taking each of the closest guards in the chest. As they fell, Jayne dropped to a knee and withdrew a grenade from the pocket of his fatigue jacket. With a jerk of the pin, he rolled the explosive orb between Inara’s legs toward the remaining clustered goons.

Grabbing Inara around the middle, his powerful legs leapt backwards, carrying he and the Companion, who was still being used as cover, into the confines of the shuttle.

[Inara Serra]

"Why, you haven't changed at all. Look at you."

At the very first sound of his soft tenor accent, Inara's carefully cultured calm had shattered. Antoine. He'd found her. She stepped closer to Jayne, her mind racing with a way to get them out of this, back onboard the shuttle and gone.

"And you say this is NOT your famous Captain Malcolm Reynolds? The man who resisted the Alliance at Serenity Valley? The outlaw who stole you away to the far edges of the Rim? Honestly, I expected something more impressive. Especially from you, Inara."

Wait? He thought JAYNE was MAL? Inara opened her mouth to protest, before closing it again. If he thought Jayne was Mal, was Jayne safer being Jayne? Or was he safer being Mal? If Mal wasn't Jayne, then did that... 'Inara! You're panicking, Control, remember? Control.

"Come, Inara. I'm not here to harm you."

And he had spoken of the lies between them? As his men moved forward, Inara gave Antoine's offered arm a scant glance, the imperius House Priestess of a Companion coming forth, "I'm not going anywhere with y..."

In the space of half a breath, the mountain of muscle known as Jayne Cobb exploded with focused violence. Antoine fell back, a startled look on his face and Inara leaped away from him.

She heard herself give a short scream as gunfire erupted near her ear, the back-blast of heat from the barrel fluttering her carefully styled hair, then Jayne's arm scooped around her, pulling her back against him and lifting her onto the shuttle.

Well, at least he wasn't leaving her behind! was her first thought. Her second, the one she voiced aloud was, "What is that?" as the grenade rolled across the grassy lawn. Her brain managed to answer the question a half-beat later, "Grenade?"

Inara squirmed out of Jayne's grasp to fling the shuttle door closed. Barely daring to breathe, tripping over her skirt, she dove for the cockpit. Antoine was here. And he was he was alive.

Not bothering with the seat as she flipped the power switches and reached for the engine control slides.

The panel stayed dark. The engine slide refused to give against the pressure of her palm.

"It's not working!" She flipped the switches again, frantic. "Jayne! Nothing's working!"

Companions don't cry. They do not panic. They remain calm, reserved, and pleasant at all times. They are equipped for all social situations, trained in control and rehearsed in restraint. The woman who looked back over her shoulder at Jayne Cobb was not a Companion. She was nothing more than the same frightened young woman who had fled the Sihnon Training House years before.

[Antoine Artois]

He should have seen that coming. That was Antoine's first thought as he slammed into the ground, struggling to pull breath in past his seizing solar plexus. His second was that he was not used to underestimating people. That made him distinctly determined not to do so in the future.

The grenade he'd had no way to predict, and he could only roll for cover as it exploded, the screams of his men tearing through the air. So, this was Malcolm Reynolds? His reputation, perhaps, did do him justice after all.

Antoine gained his feet as the shuttle door slammed shut. Already, more servents were rushing from the house and he gestured to the downed men, barking orders, "Help them! Call the gate guards. "

Then, flanked by the last two men standing, he strode to the front of the shuttle, where the view-windows would place him front and center to their view.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand from his pocket, holding up the stripped primary external power relay where those inside could see it. Then he raised a com-unit to his lips, knowing that it would echo inside of the small shuttle, his first words a soft sing-song, "Iiinnarrrra? Dearrrrrr? Are you playing hard to get?"

"Malcolm Reynolds, send out Inara and you are free to go. She is all I want." A dark light lit Antoine's eyes, "She is all I ever wanted."

[Jayne Cobb]

"It's not working! Jayne! Nothing's working!"

Jayne didn’t know what to do. For all of his prowess at dealing violence, he just didn’t have the mind for tactics or negotiation. In the thick of the fight, he could improvise with the best of them, but when he had time to think…that’s when the problems started. Though he’d never admit it, he needed men like Mal to point his skills in the right direction.

In this place…at this time, Jayne Cobb was lost.

Needing to do something, the big mercenary hastily removed his fatigue jacket and stuck the two hidden pistols in the waistband of his cargo pants. Extracting the final grenade from the coat, he crammed it into one of his pants pockets and backed away from the door. Spinning around he searched the shuttle frantically for a hidden gun, a secreted explosive…something…anything.

Cobb stalked through the bare shuttle, pacing more than anything else,
”Oh this is fan-ruttin’-tastic! We got a couple wagonfuls of hurt droppin’ on us and we ain’t got nothin’ stronger than…” Jayne thrust one of the pistols toward Inara for emphasis, ”pop guns!”

Looking up at the shuttle’s ceiling, he continued,
”I swear to all the gods there ever was…if’n I live through this I ain’t never even takin’ a beer-piss without Vera!”

"Iiinnarrrra? Dearrrrrr? Are you playing hard to get? Malcolm Reynolds, send out Inara and you are free to go. She is all I want. She is all I ever wanted."

A bucket of cold water fell over Jayne. His heart rate slowed and his breathing eased.

He had an idea.

Cobb leapt toward Inara and grabbed her by the upper arms, staring into her eyes,
”Inara listen to me…Loverboy rutted up! He killed the shuttle, but he left us with a comm! Why don’t you call whoever it is you fancy whores call when you got yourself man troubles…that Guild of yours has to be worth somethin’ right!?!”

Jayne moved back to the shuttle's door...his firearm trained on the portal,
"Get us some help, girl...I'll hold 'em long as I can."

Jayne was not a hero...he was realist.

He knew he could give Inara to the man without batting an eye, but he also knew that the man outside would kill Captain Malcolm Reynolds regardless of his cooperation.

Of that he was very sure.

[Inara Serra]

When Jayne grabbed her by the shoulders, his sweated palms crushing the satin of her gown, she knew, with the kind of certainty that comes from that place where the most certain things one ever knows comes from, that he was going to toss her out of the shuttle. "Bye, 'nara. Write when you get a chance."

”Inara listen to me…Loverboy rutted up! He killed the shuttle, but he left us with a comm! Why don’t you call whoever it is you fancy whores call when you got yourself man troubles…that Guild of yours has to be worth somethin’ right!?!”

Somehow, she stammered out the first thought that came to mind in answer, " You brought grenades!? On my date!?"

But his words were exactly what she needed. A slap of common sense as solid as if he'd actually struck her. When she met his gaze again, her own was clearer. Yes, of course. The Guild. Even out here on Beaumonde there was a Representative, and no one would ignore a call for help from a registered Guild member! "Jayne! You're some kind of genius."

Diving back to the control panel, and scooping up the com she fluttered through the channels, "This is Guild Companion Inara Serra, requesting assistance on the estate of Sir Raymond Belland at these co-ordinates..." Coordinates. What did she do with the coordinates? She'd handed them to Jayne... "Jayne? The coordinates? Where are they?"

As she searched frantically around the control panel for them, Antoine's voice sang back to her, "I'm the only one who can hear you, Innnarrra."

She raised her head, looked down at him through the screen, tried not to look into his eyes.

"What promises will it take for you to open the door, Mr. Reynolds?"

[Jayne Cobb]

"What promises will it take for you to open the door, Mr. Reynolds?"

Jayne had had enough of this half-sly light-footed fancy-pants’d pigu-pirate!

Time for him to show this rutter what kind of man Malcolm Reynolds really was.

Jayne grabbed the mic from Inara and unceremoniously pushed her down into the pilot’s seat. Locking eyes with Loverboy, he growled,
”See you say promises, and all I hears is threats. Yet, you're actin' like you’re in some kind of gorram high and mighty bargainin’ seat…well allow me to introduce you to a thing I like to call reality…” without taking his eyes from Artois, Cobb placed the barrel of his pistol against Inara’s temple, ”…welcome to my store, you little shit…Captain Malcolm Reynolds proprietor.”

His blue eyes danced a murderer’s jig, as he stared down his foe,
”Now…fix my bird, call off your split-tails, and back the rutt up. If’n you wise’n up and do them things, I might be lookin’ to trade, but if you think a double cross is the payday or that your toddlers out there might get me in a rush, you should know that I got a handcart full of hurt…and one special bullet just for Inara.”

[Inara Serra]

When Jayne threw her into the pilot's seat and held her there, she started to protest, her hands coming up to fight him.

The steel barrel, still warm from shots fired, came against her temple and she closed her eyes, going still.

”Now…fix my bird, call off your split-tails, and back the rutt up. If’n you wise’n up and do them things, I might be lookin’ to trade, but if you think a double cross is the payday or that your toddlers out there might get me in a rush, you should know that I got a handcart full of hurt…and one special bullet just for Inara.”

He meant it. He was going to kill her.

Jayne Cobb cared for no one, and nothing except for Jayne Cobb.
And now, Antoine was relying on a man who Jayne was not. Both were bargaining with her life.

Calm swept over her, and she opened her eyes, carefully keeping them focused on the panel in front of her, her voice level and calm, quiet. "Jayne... you don't want to kill me."

Don't slip up, Inara. Don't make the same mistake you made with Early. Go slow. "You're strong. You have control of the situation."

She was breathing too fast, her pulse racing, but she kept her tones soothing, trying not to give herself away, "I'm your bargaining tool, but not like this."

[Antoine Artois]

”…welcome to my store, you little shit…Captain Malcolm Reynolds proprietor.”

So, he WAS Malcolm Reynolds. Very clever of Inara to try to lie for him that way, not that he expected anything less from her.

"....you should know that I got a handcart full of hurt…and one special bullet just for Inara.”

Antoine's full attention snapped back to the negotiations at hand. The lunatic had a gun to her head. Now there was a sign of true love. Was it a ruse? Could he afford to take that chance. Antoine's gaze focused on Inara; her eyes closed, terror in the set of her mouth and in the tension in her body.

"Kill her." Antoine spoke into the com, but he raised his left hand in an open palmed gesture, before gesturing to his gunmen to back away.

"Is that how it is to be, Reynolds? If you cannot have her, no one can?" A sad smile spread across his face, and he nodded his head in a mock gesture of respect, "Perhaps we are more alike than I previously thought."

Killing the com, he turned to Jackson, visibly handing him the stripped power relay, "Byrne? Move the men back to the paddock fence. Let him think we're complying. String the power line, but don't re-attach the engine relays. Let them think they've got power back."

Reactivating the com, he turned back to the shuttle, "Do you know what it is to love? Truly love? She is all I ever wanted."

Antoine shook his head sadly, a tinge of regret on his face, "I made the mistake of losing her once. If she dies today, torn between us, it will be not be on my conscience, Reynolds."

[Jayne Cobb]

"I'm your bargaining tool, but not like this."

Jayne killed the com and dropped from Artois’s view, leaning in deadly close to Inara…his nose slightly brushing hers. His whispered threats, as powerful as an average man’s scream,
”Ain’t time for them type of games, girl. That rutter and his boys want two things…me dead and you in his keepin’, and he can’t get one without the other. This is MY dance…my gift. You sit there and shut the rutt up. I got to think…got to see his play before he lays his cards down.”

Cobb returned to his pacing in the rear of the shuttle, as his hands rubbed his temples. Talking out loud always helped him organize the chaos in his head, and it was to that behavior he now turned,
”The gunhands got to be Cores. If’n they’d been Rimmers, I’d be bleedin’ or dyin’, so they ain’t prepped for what I got. I could hold until dark…sneak out…get away.”

His eyes shot over to Inara and an emotion like an atrophied muscle flexed within him…loyalty. As the sensation clouded his ramblings, the memory responsible for the feeling surfaced…

____________________________________

It was getting cold in the exposed airlock.

He was going to die…Mal was going to kill him.

Jayne always knew that he would die young…had come to grips with it years ago, but not like this. They’d learn of his treachery…the crew…Kaylee.

He could accept death…he couldn’t accept that,
”What you gonna tell the others?”

”About what?”

”’Bout why I’m dead.”

”Hadn’t thought about it.”

”Do me a favor…make somethin’ up. Don’t tell ‘em what I did.”

____________________________________


Cobb snapped back to the present and realized he was still looking at Inara. How could he escape and tell the others…tell Kaylee, he left the Companion?

He couldn’t.

Kaylee’s judgment became the catalyst for Jayne’s decision, but there was something deeper still…a need to prove Malcolm Reynolds wrong. So there he stood, in the shoes of the man whose approval he sought, determined to act the hero…just this once.

He moved back to Inara and grabbed her hand as he would his mother’s. Still out of Artois’s sightline he spoke…the bent of the words, like a new language, were difficult to shape,
”I ain’t gonna let ‘em take you…and I ain’t lookin’ to shoot you neither. But you got to help me. Play along with whatever I do…” he stopped, struggling with the last part ”…but if’n you think of somethin’ that might…you know…help or somethin’…kindly tell me and I’ll take it under advisement.”

"Do you know what it is to love? Truly love? She is all I ever wanted. I made the mistake of losing her once. If she dies today, torn between us, it will be not be on my conscience, Reynolds."

With one last squeeze he released her hand, grabbed the com, and returned to the shuttle’s windshield,
”Love? You ain’t from these parts are you, boy? Let me explain a little ‘bout love. Out here we ain’t got room for it…survivin’ takes up too much space, so don’t you think I’ll hold off killin’ this whore on account of love. And for the record, ain’t nothin’ the same about us…I’m a man does my own fightin’…you’re a coward hidin’ behind a bunch of other cowards...and I ain't got the luxury of conscience.”

[JacksonByrne]

Jackson took the power relay from Artois, making sure that it could easily be seen by the pair inside the shuttle and then raised a hand, signalling to his only remaining colleague and the servants and guards who had rushed onto the scene to fall back to the fence. He watched them impassively for a moment, ignoring the groans of the injured men, then, once they had all complied with his order, he moved toward the shuttle.

Looking up as he approached, he could clearly see the fear on Inara Serra's face, and the tension in Malcolm Reynolds's jaw. He glanced back once at Artois, and then disappeared under the belly of the shuttle to replace the relay. Several moments later he reappeared and returned to his boss's side.

"Now what, Sir?" he asked quietly.

[Inara Serra]

Inara couldn't stifle the whimper that escaped her throat as Jayne dropped down, face to face with her, the scent of cigar on his breath, fury-sweat lacing his brow. He'd seen through her, just as Early had, and his hissed words hit with as much impact as the butt of Jubal Early's pistol.

”Ain’t time for them type of games, girl. That rutter and his boys want two things…me dead and you in his keepin’, and he can’t get one without the other. This is MY dance…my gift. You sit there and shut the rutt up. I got to think…got to see his play before he lays his cards down.”

At least he hadn't pistol whipped her. Yet.

She did the only thing she could. She shut the rutt up and waited. Raising her eyes, she looked out the window, watched as Antoine spoke to the lanky young man beside him, watched them discuss the part that they'd taken off the shuttle.

Jayne was right. War was his purvey. But men like Antoine Artois were hers.
Inara kept still, like Jayne ordered, but her eyes were on the situation outside of the shuttle. On the man she had once presumed to know, but was now a total stranger to her. What was he playing at?

Suddenly, Jayne moved back to her side, decisively, and she cringed back in the chair, knowing she wasn't physically strong enough to oppose him if he was tossing her out. So when he grabbed her hand, gentle as a lover, and spoke in hushed tones, it took her benumbed mind a moment to catch up.

”I ain’t gonna let ‘em take you…and I ain’t lookin’ to shoot you neither. But you got to help me. Play along with whatever I do…but if’n you think of somethin’ that might…you know…help or somethin’…kindly tell me and I’ll take it under advisement.”

Unable to fathom what had caused this sudden change in the man, Inara nodded slightly. This Jayne Cobb was a complete stranger to her now as well, not the man she'd presumed to know not ten minutes before. Doubt crept in, but so did hope, her words a still-lipped whisper, "I'll follow your lead."

For now. Until I come up with something better...