Fic: Honeymooning with the Neidermeyers
Title: Honeymooning with the Neidermeyers, (1/2)
Pairings: A little Wash/Kaylee, a little Wash/Zoe.
Characters: Mostly Wash and Kaylee, with some Zoe and Mal, and a sprinkling of Jayne and Inara.
Rating: PG13, for pillow books & prophylactics.
Timeline: Pre-series.
Word count: ~9000
Summary: A caper on a luxury cruise ship. Wash's and especially Kaylee's skills are vitally needed for the job. But of course, things never run smooth when Mal is the mix.
Written for
czgoldedition for
washathon 2008. Her guidelines:
Pairing you want written for you: A little non-explicit pre-series Wash/Kaylee which ultimately ends in Wash/Zoe.
Requirement One: Kaylee has to be the one to pressure Wash into it with her happy-flirty ways. Secret Zoe jealousy that results in anger towards Wash related to this might be good too if it can be kept in-character.
Requirement Two: Delicious Wash technobabble, especially shared between him and Kaylee!
One Restriction: Make sure it has a larger plot too beyond the pairing stuff! What it entails is entirely up to you.
~*~
“So.”
Mal, Zoe standing at his shoulder, swept his gaze across the rest of his crew, seated at the galley table. “Got us a job. Been hired by Badger to-”
Wash and Jayne groaned loudly, in unison, and even Kaylee sighed, shaking her head and looking down at the table in dismay.
“Hey, now!” Mal protested. “This is a good gig, payin' good, hard, cashy money. An' we got a fine plan. This'll go down smooth as smooth.”
“That's whatcha said last time we got a job from Badger,” Jayne grumbled. “Was pullin' bird shot outta my- my behindular zone for weeks, after.”
“Shoulda let me see to that, Jayne,” Mal said bluffly. “Or Zoe. She's a dab hand with them tweezers.” He glanced at her just in time to catch the full force of her death-ray glare. Guess she didn't care for him volunteering her to get up close and personal with Jayne's naked hindquarters. A little rattled, he turned back to his gunman, and said, “An'- an' anyway, the point is moot, as your job, Jayne, will be to stay behind and guard the fort.”
“There's a fort?” Jayne frowned. “Where's it at?”
Mal rolled his eyes, then said, enunciating clearly, “Metaphorically speakin'. What I mean is, you'll stay behind, mindin' Serenity.”
“So it's a job which doesn't entail mindless violence and sudden, occasionally accidental explosions.” Wash nodded his approval. “Shiny.”
“Indeed it is. In fact-”
“Hey!” Jayne yelled, umbrage sitting him bolt upright in his chair. “Ain't none of my explosions ever accidental, little man! Best you remember that!”
“Could we please focus here?” Mal asked wearily, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Jayne slumped back in his chair, crossing his arms, and both Wash and Kaylee sat forward in theirs, folding their hands and placing them primly on the table before them. Mal ignored the soft snort of amusement from beside him. Fine. Zoe could laugh all she liked. At least they'd shut up and he had their attention, which was saying something with these three.
“As I was sayin' - or tryin' to - this here is a job,” and here Mal grinned gleefully, rubbing his hands together, “of industrial espionage.”
“Whosie what?” Jayne peered at Mal, head cocked, brow furrowed.
“Spyin'. On a corporation,” Zoe bit out, darting an exasperated look at her captain. “Keepin' it simple,” she went on with meaningful emphasis, “we're to get a hold of the experimental model of an EM dampener, which when installed in a ship's gravity drive establishes a random disruption of the ship's radioactive exhausts, thereby makin' it harder to trace.”
Wash shivered extravagantly, and, turning to Kaylee, whispered loudly, “I love it when she talks dirty like that.” She covered her broad grin with a hand, trying to quell her giggles.
“So, we're gonna steal this eee em thingie,” Jayne said, trying to keep track.
“No, actually,” Mal jumped in, shooting a look at Zoe, “we're gonna borrow this thingie, take it apart, makin' careful note of all the bits and pieces, an' how they connect to one another, then put it back together, and return it to its owners, safe and sound, and them none the wiser.” And now he beamed at Kaylee. “Which is why my genius mechanic is the primary player in this particular scheme.”
“Me?” Kaylee squeaked. “I get to be part of a caper?”
“Yep. Now, here's how it is. This EM dampener is traveling to its new home on Beaumont, with the head honcho of MacGuffin Incorporated's research department, locked up in the secure cargo area of the cruise liner, Lorelei.”
“Lorelei is a passenger class mega-cruiser,” Wash interrupted. “Those babies have legs. Boy howdy, do they have legs.” Then, realizing his enthusiasm might be seen as unfaithfulness to Serenity, he glanced anxiously around at his ship-mates, and said hastily, “But, can't maneuver worth beans. We got her beat, hands down, with the maneuverability.”
“As that's neither here nor there as to our current task at hand, Wash, maybe we could keep our tangents down to a minimum?”
Wash nodded agreeably, making the “fastening the zipper” motion across his lips.
“I thank you.” With a crisp nod, Mal went on, “Now, we'll board this mega class cruiser tomorrow mornin', along with the EM dampener. Zoe an' I'll handle the thievin'. Actually, the not-thievin'. The temporary borrowin'. And Kaylee will handle the dismantling and the remantling.
“We got us three cabins reserved, two in steerage, for me an' Zoe, an' - you're gonna like this, little Kaylee - Badger managed to snaffle up a raffle prize. First class accommodations. What they call the bridal suite. Y' are gonna have to share it with Wash, though, for which I apologize.”
“Wait. Wash? Me? Why'm I going? I'm a pilot, Mal, not a spy.”
“Pilot and tech support. Need you to support Kaylee technically. Plus, me and Zoe are gonna be keepin' our distance, so as not to blow Kaylee's cover. Don't want a hint of her mixed up in the thievin'. Borrowin'. But I need someone to look after her. And Jayne is right out, so looks like I'm stuck with you.”
Wash ran a distracted hand back and forth over his scalp, absorbing this information. Then, eyes a little wild, hair sticking up every which way, he quibbled, “But, first class accommodations? We'll stand out like sore thumbs.” He glanced at Kaylee, who gave him a nervous little nod of agreement.
“Nah, now, don't vex yourself. Y' don't have to pretend t' be all refined and couth. You're just plain, common folk. The Neidermeyers. A nice, young married couple, who've won a once in a lifetime opportunity. A week long cruise, all expenses paid, round trip from Persephone to Beaumont and back, with first-rate fare and a dee-luxe bridal suite.” He smiled benignly upon his pilot and mechanic. “Almost like a vacation.”
“Married?” Wash shot an uneasy look at Zoe. Mere months into their - What? Affair? Romance? Capital R Relationship? - he had not yet ascertained if she were the jealous type. And he wasn't particularly inclined to find out. “Couldn't we be like, oh, siblings maybe? Ge ge and mei mei?”
“Now, Wash, it's looked at slant-ways, least-wise in this part of the 'verse, when a brother and a sister share a bridal suite. Nope, y'all are married. Newly weds, point of fact, lending a certain veri- veri-”
“Verisimilitude.”
“Yes, thank you, Zoe. Verisimilitude to your occupyin' said bridal suite.”
Kaylee, completely unconcerned that she would be unable to uphold her crucial role in the scheme, got down to brass tacks and voiced her greatest reservation.
“But, a cruise liner, Cap'n? That's so... fancy! What'll we wear?”
~ * ~
Kaylee cooed happily over the three frocks Zoe'd selected for her; pastel green, blue, and pink, simple but flattering. Just right for the very lucky, working-class Mrs. Neidermeyer. Wash, however, was far less pleased with his new outfit, grumbling loudly that if he'd wanted to dress like a corporate drone he would have become an accountant like his dad. Mal had to make thinly veiled threats of bodily harm before he consented to put it on.
Inara came into the galley as the Neidermeyers modeled their “disguises,” took one look at Wash in his new suit, put her fingertips to her lips, and murmured, “Oh, dear.”
“What?” Mal huffed defensively, having been the guy choosing the suit. “He looks fine. Don't he look fine, Zoe?”
“He'll do.”
Inara simply tisked, and swept over to Wash, who was struggling with the tie as though it were one of Laocoon's serpents, squeezing the breath from him. She set calming hands upon him, a gentle prod to the small of his back bringing him up to his full height, shoulders square. She cast an assessing eye over him, whisked the jacket off his body, and, with it neatly folded over one arm, retired to her shuttle.
She reemerged about an hour later, and helped Wash back into the jacket. Zoe, making herself a cup of tea in the kitchen, watched, mostly from the corner of one eye, as the Companion smoothed and straightened and tucked. It was still a cheap suit; dark cheap serge, cheaply tailored. But Inara had done something, to the sleeves, maybe, and at the waist, and it seemed to hang better from his shoulders. And she'd swapped ties, taken away the black and given him a blue one. Could it be that that made his eyes seem brighter?
Zoe decided Wash cleaned up pretty good. Not that she minded him mussed and rumpled. Not a bit. 'Specially if she'd been the one doing the mussin' and rumplin'.
~ * ~
A mega-cruiser was perfectly capable of landing on and lifting from a planet. Said maneuver was also fairly expensive, fuel-wise, so it made more sense for new and returning passengers to be brought on board by shuttle. Mal situated Serenity at one of Persephone's minor space ports, and, knowing Jayne's capacity for mischief, locked him off the ship, providing him enough funds to bunk down at a reasonable boarding house. The guy might decide to blow it all in a couple nights at a brothel, but that was his look out.
The rest of them caught a ride to the capital city with Inara. She dropped them at the main shuttle port, and then took herself to the local Companion temple for a little R&R. Lorelei's shuttle bus carried them, with about a dozen others, up from Persephone, Kaylee and Wash sitting next to one another, nervy, holding hands, with Zoe aft of the craft and Mal to the fore. When they docked with the cruise ship, those heading toward steerage were led as a group toward their cabins. Wash and Kaylee had to school themselves from watching Zoe and Mal walk away from them. After all, they weren't supposed to know one another.
A smiling young flight attendant guided the Neidermeyers personally to their bunk, introducing himself as James, and gushing charmingly about how pleased the crew was to have the grand prize winners aboard. Wash tried to tip him, but the man just smiled, waving the creds away, and then let him know, out of Kaylee's hearing, when he was off shift and where Wash could find him, if he needed anything, anything at all.
The door slid shut behind them, and Wash and Kaylee took a moment simply to stare. The cabin was large, maybe as big as all the bunks on Serenity put together. A huge bed, draped with a deep red silky cover, all manner of pillows poofed up against the headboard, dominated the right side of the cabin. To their left, a separate nook was made by a large couch (the same deep red as the bed) facing away from the bed and toward a large cortex screen set in the wall. The cream carpet matched the walls, which were graced by a number of paintings, faintly organic abstracts done in shades of purple. Vases with fresh flowers - red, white, and pink - had been placed on the small tables on each side of the bed.
Wash entertained the uneasy thought that he might suffer a sugar overdose of the psyche if he had to spend too many of his waking hours in this room.
Across the room from them, were two sliding doors. They ventured forward to explore and found one opened onto the head, and the other into a large walk-in closet with enclosed dresser. Kaylee peered inside and said, “Don't think all of both our clothes would fill but a twentieth of this space.”
Wash nodded. “If that.”
Kaylee did hang up the two frocks she wasn't wearing, the green and the blue, so they wouldn't wrinkle too bad. They did look a little lonely and forlorn in all that space. Wash simply dumped his unopened duffel on the closet floor.
Thus situated, they looked at one another, a little awestruck. Not so much by the decor, but by the huge, almost unimaginable wealth suggested by all this empty, underutilized room on a space-going vessel. After a moment, Wash picked up the glossy itinerary set on a bedside table, and checked out the scheduled events.
“Okay. It looks like it's the after dinner hour now, ship time. A live band, an open bar, a light buffet in the deck A ballroom. Wanna go? Or wanna stay here and... acclimatize?”
“Well...”
He could tell she really, really wanted to get out there and take a gander at how the other half lived. But she wouldn't go unless he thought it was all right.
“Once in a lifetime, Kaylee. Let's do it.”
Being ship-folk, they quickly oriented themselves within Lorelei's corridors, despite the fact the vessel out-bulked Serenity by a factor of ten. They stepped though the open double doors of Ballroom A, and stopped dead in their tracks.
“Wow,” Wash breathed.
“Golly!” agreed Kaylee.
The ballroom and the people in it faded to inconsequence, dominated by the vast window opening up into space in one great seamless arc from the far end of the room across its entire ceiling. Persephone loomed close overhead, Lorelei set in an orbit which kept a rich purple and flaming orange sunset blazing continually in view.
“We gotta get in here when we're actually in the Black,” Wash muttered, and Kaylee nodded, hearing the deep desire which roughened his voice, although she didn't quite understand it. It did send a little shiver through her, reminding her that he was actually pretty shuai, and that she regretted a little bit that he'd always been so focused on Zoe, even before Kaylee'd hired on.
“So, what do we do now?” she murmured, casting her eye around, a bit intimidated by the surrounding opulence and the elegantly dressed crowd. The pretty pink frock, so stylish just moments ago, now just seemed so, well, Rim.
“I guess we just... blend in. Act like everyone else. Don't do anything to stand out, to call attention to ourselves. To make security notice us.”
“Evening, folks.”
Wash and Kaylee swiveled toward the speaker, who proved to be a very large man wearing the spruce white uniform of the Lorelei's crew. A gold badge reading SECURITY glittered on his chest. A jolt of alarm shocked through Wash and he could feel Kaylee stiffen beside him.
“Welcome aboard, ma'am, sir.” He nodded politely to them both. “Just going around, introducing myself to our new passengers. I'm Lt. Han, Lorelei's chief of security.”
Wash made his lips smile, made his head bob genially, but he couldn't quite manage a 'hello.' Kaylee offered a timid, “Howdy.”
Undeterred by their awkwardness, the officer carried on, holding up their side of the conversation as well. “And you're our lucky newlyweds. The Neidermeyers. Congratulations on your nuptials.”
Wash kick-started his mouth. “Yep, yep, that's us. The Neidermeyers. We're them.”
Smiling, clearly pleased that the chit-chat ball had commenced rolling, Han inquired, “So, what do you all do?”
“Do?”
“For a living,” the security officer prompted gently. “What do you do?”
“Well, um, we, I, um-” Wash looked at Kaylee, and realized she really needed something familiar to latch onto. Falling into the bluff, he embellished on her past, making it their reality. “We run a repair shop. For engines. All types. Rovers. Hovercraft. But we specialize in ship's engines.”
“So you're a mechanic.”
“Yeess... but it's my, my wife here, my wife who's the real genius mechanic.” He set a light hand on Kaylee's forearm, and was dismayed to find her trembling.
“Really?” The security officer turned the force of his attention on her, and Wash felt her arm tense.
“Really!” Wash blurted loudly, bringing the man's eyes back to him, chagrined he had put her on the spot. He decided he would babble on, do whatever it took to keep the focus off Kaylee. “I mean, now, one time, she jump started two engine pods with nothing but hydrogen fumes, blowin' out a powerful lot of sticky, organic refuse.” Wash slid in closer to her, putting his hand at the small of her back, making small, soothing circles with his fingertips. “My honey bunch is amazing.”
“Aw, now, sweetie,” Kaylee replied, eyes fixed perhaps a bit rigidly on the lawman, but still, in Wash's mind, rising valiantly to the occasion, “I well remember that console you reconfigured with naught but duck tape to hand.” Kaylee set one hand against Wash's chest, and he covered it with his palm, pressing it firmly against himself.
“That was nothin', moon-cake.” He tucked himself in tighter, and pressed his lips in reassurance against her temple for a brief moment. “How 'bout the time you fixed that electrolysis chamber by rerouting the injection manifold straight through the fuel interface?”
“Oh, baobei, that was easy as pie.” Now they were snuggled up close, gazing intently into one another's eyes. “Not like when you unjammed that swivelplate with a backburn of plasma through the engine pod.”
“Couldn't have done it without you, sugar lips.” Wash pushed his voice down into a deeper, huskier register. “The way you handled that welding torch was just so... hot.”
Han cleared his throat loudly. “'Scuse me, folks. Shouldn't be taking up your special time together. Enjoy your honeymoon.” He inclined his head politely, touching two fingers to his brow, and moved away.
They stood silently for a long moment, then Kaylee whispered, “Is he gone?”
Wash, who'd been keeping a discreet eye on the lieutenant over her shoulder, murmured, “Yep. He's over chattin' up a couple by the buffet.”
“Oh, Wash.” She sagged against him, and he pulled her tighter to his side.
“You did good. Don't fret. He's just mingling, showing the colors.” He ran a comforting hand up and down her back, then pulled away slightly to smile into her face. “Hey, we get free drinks with our bridal suite. Want something?”
She beamed up at him, eyes wide. “Oh, yeah! That'd be shiny. Somethin' fruity, an' with one of them little parasols?”
“Fruity parasol, comin' up.” He bent the tiny little bit it took to set a kiss on the tip of her nose, then tucked her hand in his elbow, to lead her toward the bar.
~ * ~
“Y' reckoned right, Zoe. They just walked in.”
Mal lounged back in his chair at the small table he shared with Zoe, his shot glass of whiskey held before his lips, hiding their movement.
The two of them had set themselves up in the Deck A Ballroom, under the notion that if Wash and Kaylee did venture from their cabin, they'd most likely show up here. A little random movement, and to anyone observing, it would have seemed two unacquainted passengers, wearing unremarkable middle-management business drab, ended by chance sharing a table in the busy venue.
Mal's chair faced the entrance, which placed Zoe in the position of watching his six. Her slight nod acknowledged the information he'd just passed along.
A long, silent moment passed, then Mal stiffened. “Gorramit,” he bit out.
“Trouble, sir?” She eased up in her chair, getting ready to spring in whatever need be direction, running escape routes through her mind.
He sat up, putting his glass on the table. “He's got his hands all over her.”
“Shen me?”
“That pilot of yours. He's got his gorram hands all up and down my mei mei.”
“My pilot..?”
“I told you this was a bad idea, that we couldn't trust him not to take advantage.”
“Don't recall that part of the conversation, sir.”
“Fine. But I did have my private reservations. Which I kept to my own self, not wantin' to offend your tender sensibilities.”
“My sensibilities aside, sir,” she said softly, lips hardly moving, “Wash ain't the kinda man to take advantage. And I held that opinion well before I started sexin' him up.” His gaze flitted away from her, in a wincing sort of way. “And you shouldn't be carin' if the Neidermeyers strip buck naked, and go at it hammer and tongs in the middle of the dance floor.” He glared at her, mouth and eyes going wide with outrage, but she went on, quiet but firm, “And you shouldn't be knowin' me well enough to have any kinda personal conversation.”
That cooled him, and after a moment, he rose, tossed back his remaining quarter-inch of whiskey, and growled, “You're on watch. I'll be in my bunk.”
~ * ~
Wash and Kaylee found a table, and sat there for a while, content to watch the comings and goings of their social betters, marveling at one lady's assortment of jewelry, or the color of that fella's pants. Wash fetched Kaylee two more fruity parasol drinks, while he slowly sipped down a pint of beer. Alcohol went straight to the circuit that connected his mouth to his brain, unhitching the governor for both volume and content. He realized maybe he should have tasted one of Kaylee's drinks to ascertain its potency when she stood up, flung her hand out to him, and demanded, “Let's dance.”
“Uh, Kaylee,” he started, but still, he was rising, taking her hand, because she'd been loud enough for some of the folks around them to turn and look. As she tugged him onto the dance floor he warned her, “I only know how to waltz. And I last did that in flight school.”
“Well,” she declared cheerily, putting her right hand on his shoulder and using the left to tightly grip his right, “it's a good thing yer leading, 'cuz I can't even do that.”
Eventually, they ended up doing the lowest common denominator of partnered dancing; rocking back and forth gently in time to the music, her hands on his shoulders, his on her waist. That was fine, Wash thought, 'cause they weren't the only couple on the floor in the same configuration. And besides, there were a lot worse ways a guy could be spending his time, other than in close contact with a pretty woman, just soaking up the essence of her. That old Earth-That-Was genius, Einstein, based his whole theory of relativity on that fact.
His musings were cut off when Kaylee's hands slipped off his shoulders, down his sides, and then around to his backside. Her very strong fingers gave his buttocks a healthy squeeze, while she pressed her face into his chest, giggling roguishly. He eeped, then grinned, giving her a little swat on the rear.
“You have had way too many fruity parasols.”
She looked up at him, eyes twinkling. “Just doin' my job is all, makin' folks believe we're newlyweds, an' all.”
“Thinkin' maybe someone needs to go to bed.”
“Now, see,” she said, smiling impishly, “that's just what I'm talkin' about.” Then, she leaned into him, heavily, capturing his mouth with hers, arms twining behind his neck, and, lao tien ye, was she ever a great kisser; tender but strong, completely self-assured. For a long pulse of sweet, fruit-flavored time, he fell into the luxury of her lips, offering up to her the best of his own. Then, sucking in a deep breath, he pulled away from her, putting his hands on her shoulders to push her back a bit.
“Whoa,” he said, voice thick, meaning both “whoa - stop” and “whoa - that totally turned me on.”
She put her hand to her lips, looking down to the deck, then back up at him, eyes wide, seeming a little dazed.
“Whoa,” she repeated, distractedly.
“Maybe,” he said, heart pounding a little too hard. “Maybe we're a little tired. Stressed. Maybe we should get to our bunk. Get to sleep.” Then, clarifying emphatically, “Just sleep. Sleeping is good.”
“Yeah. Sleep.”
~ * ~
Was a good thing Mal had retired to his bunk, Zoe decided, as she watched Wash pull away from the smooch he had just laid on Kaylee. Because she didn't know if she could have held him back from charging across the dance floor to defend the young mechanic's honor. In fact, recognizing that slightly fevered expression on her lover's face, she wasn't too sure she would have tried to restrain the captain.
She watched them leave the ballroom, features stony.
~ * ~
On to Honeymooning with the Neidermeyers, (2/2).
Pairings: A little Wash/Kaylee, a little Wash/Zoe.
Characters: Mostly Wash and Kaylee, with some Zoe and Mal, and a sprinkling of Jayne and Inara.
Rating: PG13, for pillow books & prophylactics.
Timeline: Pre-series.
Word count: ~9000
Summary: A caper on a luxury cruise ship. Wash's and especially Kaylee's skills are vitally needed for the job. But of course, things never run smooth when Mal is the mix.
Written for
czgoldedition for
washathon 2008. Her guidelines:
Pairing you want written for you: A little non-explicit pre-series Wash/Kaylee which ultimately ends in Wash/Zoe.
Requirement One: Kaylee has to be the one to pressure Wash into it with her happy-flirty ways. Secret Zoe jealousy that results in anger towards Wash related to this might be good too if it can be kept in-character.
Requirement Two: Delicious Wash technobabble, especially shared between him and Kaylee!
One Restriction: Make sure it has a larger plot too beyond the pairing stuff! What it entails is entirely up to you.
~*~
“So.”
Mal, Zoe standing at his shoulder, swept his gaze across the rest of his crew, seated at the galley table. “Got us a job. Been hired by Badger to-”
Wash and Jayne groaned loudly, in unison, and even Kaylee sighed, shaking her head and looking down at the table in dismay.
“Hey, now!” Mal protested. “This is a good gig, payin' good, hard, cashy money. An' we got a fine plan. This'll go down smooth as smooth.”
“That's whatcha said last time we got a job from Badger,” Jayne grumbled. “Was pullin' bird shot outta my- my behindular zone for weeks, after.”
“Shoulda let me see to that, Jayne,” Mal said bluffly. “Or Zoe. She's a dab hand with them tweezers.” He glanced at her just in time to catch the full force of her death-ray glare. Guess she didn't care for him volunteering her to get up close and personal with Jayne's naked hindquarters. A little rattled, he turned back to his gunman, and said, “An'- an' anyway, the point is moot, as your job, Jayne, will be to stay behind and guard the fort.”
“There's a fort?” Jayne frowned. “Where's it at?”
Mal rolled his eyes, then said, enunciating clearly, “Metaphorically speakin'. What I mean is, you'll stay behind, mindin' Serenity.”
“So it's a job which doesn't entail mindless violence and sudden, occasionally accidental explosions.” Wash nodded his approval. “Shiny.”
“Indeed it is. In fact-”
“Hey!” Jayne yelled, umbrage sitting him bolt upright in his chair. “Ain't none of my explosions ever accidental, little man! Best you remember that!”
“Could we please focus here?” Mal asked wearily, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Jayne slumped back in his chair, crossing his arms, and both Wash and Kaylee sat forward in theirs, folding their hands and placing them primly on the table before them. Mal ignored the soft snort of amusement from beside him. Fine. Zoe could laugh all she liked. At least they'd shut up and he had their attention, which was saying something with these three.
“As I was sayin' - or tryin' to - this here is a job,” and here Mal grinned gleefully, rubbing his hands together, “of industrial espionage.”
“Whosie what?” Jayne peered at Mal, head cocked, brow furrowed.
“Spyin'. On a corporation,” Zoe bit out, darting an exasperated look at her captain. “Keepin' it simple,” she went on with meaningful emphasis, “we're to get a hold of the experimental model of an EM dampener, which when installed in a ship's gravity drive establishes a random disruption of the ship's radioactive exhausts, thereby makin' it harder to trace.”
Wash shivered extravagantly, and, turning to Kaylee, whispered loudly, “I love it when she talks dirty like that.” She covered her broad grin with a hand, trying to quell her giggles.
“So, we're gonna steal this eee em thingie,” Jayne said, trying to keep track.
“No, actually,” Mal jumped in, shooting a look at Zoe, “we're gonna borrow this thingie, take it apart, makin' careful note of all the bits and pieces, an' how they connect to one another, then put it back together, and return it to its owners, safe and sound, and them none the wiser.” And now he beamed at Kaylee. “Which is why my genius mechanic is the primary player in this particular scheme.”
“Me?” Kaylee squeaked. “I get to be part of a caper?”
“Yep. Now, here's how it is. This EM dampener is traveling to its new home on Beaumont, with the head honcho of MacGuffin Incorporated's research department, locked up in the secure cargo area of the cruise liner, Lorelei.”
“Lorelei is a passenger class mega-cruiser,” Wash interrupted. “Those babies have legs. Boy howdy, do they have legs.” Then, realizing his enthusiasm might be seen as unfaithfulness to Serenity, he glanced anxiously around at his ship-mates, and said hastily, “But, can't maneuver worth beans. We got her beat, hands down, with the maneuverability.”
“As that's neither here nor there as to our current task at hand, Wash, maybe we could keep our tangents down to a minimum?”
Wash nodded agreeably, making the “fastening the zipper” motion across his lips.
“I thank you.” With a crisp nod, Mal went on, “Now, we'll board this mega class cruiser tomorrow mornin', along with the EM dampener. Zoe an' I'll handle the thievin'. Actually, the not-thievin'. The temporary borrowin'. And Kaylee will handle the dismantling and the remantling.
“We got us three cabins reserved, two in steerage, for me an' Zoe, an' - you're gonna like this, little Kaylee - Badger managed to snaffle up a raffle prize. First class accommodations. What they call the bridal suite. Y' are gonna have to share it with Wash, though, for which I apologize.”
“Wait. Wash? Me? Why'm I going? I'm a pilot, Mal, not a spy.”
“Pilot and tech support. Need you to support Kaylee technically. Plus, me and Zoe are gonna be keepin' our distance, so as not to blow Kaylee's cover. Don't want a hint of her mixed up in the thievin'. Borrowin'. But I need someone to look after her. And Jayne is right out, so looks like I'm stuck with you.”
Wash ran a distracted hand back and forth over his scalp, absorbing this information. Then, eyes a little wild, hair sticking up every which way, he quibbled, “But, first class accommodations? We'll stand out like sore thumbs.” He glanced at Kaylee, who gave him a nervous little nod of agreement.
“Nah, now, don't vex yourself. Y' don't have to pretend t' be all refined and couth. You're just plain, common folk. The Neidermeyers. A nice, young married couple, who've won a once in a lifetime opportunity. A week long cruise, all expenses paid, round trip from Persephone to Beaumont and back, with first-rate fare and a dee-luxe bridal suite.” He smiled benignly upon his pilot and mechanic. “Almost like a vacation.”
“Married?” Wash shot an uneasy look at Zoe. Mere months into their - What? Affair? Romance? Capital R Relationship? - he had not yet ascertained if she were the jealous type. And he wasn't particularly inclined to find out. “Couldn't we be like, oh, siblings maybe? Ge ge and mei mei?”
“Now, Wash, it's looked at slant-ways, least-wise in this part of the 'verse, when a brother and a sister share a bridal suite. Nope, y'all are married. Newly weds, point of fact, lending a certain veri- veri-”
“Verisimilitude.”
“Yes, thank you, Zoe. Verisimilitude to your occupyin' said bridal suite.”
Kaylee, completely unconcerned that she would be unable to uphold her crucial role in the scheme, got down to brass tacks and voiced her greatest reservation.
“But, a cruise liner, Cap'n? That's so... fancy! What'll we wear?”
~ * ~
Kaylee cooed happily over the three frocks Zoe'd selected for her; pastel green, blue, and pink, simple but flattering. Just right for the very lucky, working-class Mrs. Neidermeyer. Wash, however, was far less pleased with his new outfit, grumbling loudly that if he'd wanted to dress like a corporate drone he would have become an accountant like his dad. Mal had to make thinly veiled threats of bodily harm before he consented to put it on.
Inara came into the galley as the Neidermeyers modeled their “disguises,” took one look at Wash in his new suit, put her fingertips to her lips, and murmured, “Oh, dear.”
“What?” Mal huffed defensively, having been the guy choosing the suit. “He looks fine. Don't he look fine, Zoe?”
“He'll do.”
Inara simply tisked, and swept over to Wash, who was struggling with the tie as though it were one of Laocoon's serpents, squeezing the breath from him. She set calming hands upon him, a gentle prod to the small of his back bringing him up to his full height, shoulders square. She cast an assessing eye over him, whisked the jacket off his body, and, with it neatly folded over one arm, retired to her shuttle.
She reemerged about an hour later, and helped Wash back into the jacket. Zoe, making herself a cup of tea in the kitchen, watched, mostly from the corner of one eye, as the Companion smoothed and straightened and tucked. It was still a cheap suit; dark cheap serge, cheaply tailored. But Inara had done something, to the sleeves, maybe, and at the waist, and it seemed to hang better from his shoulders. And she'd swapped ties, taken away the black and given him a blue one. Could it be that that made his eyes seem brighter?
Zoe decided Wash cleaned up pretty good. Not that she minded him mussed and rumpled. Not a bit. 'Specially if she'd been the one doing the mussin' and rumplin'.
~ * ~
A mega-cruiser was perfectly capable of landing on and lifting from a planet. Said maneuver was also fairly expensive, fuel-wise, so it made more sense for new and returning passengers to be brought on board by shuttle. Mal situated Serenity at one of Persephone's minor space ports, and, knowing Jayne's capacity for mischief, locked him off the ship, providing him enough funds to bunk down at a reasonable boarding house. The guy might decide to blow it all in a couple nights at a brothel, but that was his look out.
The rest of them caught a ride to the capital city with Inara. She dropped them at the main shuttle port, and then took herself to the local Companion temple for a little R&R. Lorelei's shuttle bus carried them, with about a dozen others, up from Persephone, Kaylee and Wash sitting next to one another, nervy, holding hands, with Zoe aft of the craft and Mal to the fore. When they docked with the cruise ship, those heading toward steerage were led as a group toward their cabins. Wash and Kaylee had to school themselves from watching Zoe and Mal walk away from them. After all, they weren't supposed to know one another.
A smiling young flight attendant guided the Neidermeyers personally to their bunk, introducing himself as James, and gushing charmingly about how pleased the crew was to have the grand prize winners aboard. Wash tried to tip him, but the man just smiled, waving the creds away, and then let him know, out of Kaylee's hearing, when he was off shift and where Wash could find him, if he needed anything, anything at all.
The door slid shut behind them, and Wash and Kaylee took a moment simply to stare. The cabin was large, maybe as big as all the bunks on Serenity put together. A huge bed, draped with a deep red silky cover, all manner of pillows poofed up against the headboard, dominated the right side of the cabin. To their left, a separate nook was made by a large couch (the same deep red as the bed) facing away from the bed and toward a large cortex screen set in the wall. The cream carpet matched the walls, which were graced by a number of paintings, faintly organic abstracts done in shades of purple. Vases with fresh flowers - red, white, and pink - had been placed on the small tables on each side of the bed.
Wash entertained the uneasy thought that he might suffer a sugar overdose of the psyche if he had to spend too many of his waking hours in this room.
Across the room from them, were two sliding doors. They ventured forward to explore and found one opened onto the head, and the other into a large walk-in closet with enclosed dresser. Kaylee peered inside and said, “Don't think all of both our clothes would fill but a twentieth of this space.”
Wash nodded. “If that.”
Kaylee did hang up the two frocks she wasn't wearing, the green and the blue, so they wouldn't wrinkle too bad. They did look a little lonely and forlorn in all that space. Wash simply dumped his unopened duffel on the closet floor.
Thus situated, they looked at one another, a little awestruck. Not so much by the decor, but by the huge, almost unimaginable wealth suggested by all this empty, underutilized room on a space-going vessel. After a moment, Wash picked up the glossy itinerary set on a bedside table, and checked out the scheduled events.
“Okay. It looks like it's the after dinner hour now, ship time. A live band, an open bar, a light buffet in the deck A ballroom. Wanna go? Or wanna stay here and... acclimatize?”
“Well...”
He could tell she really, really wanted to get out there and take a gander at how the other half lived. But she wouldn't go unless he thought it was all right.
“Once in a lifetime, Kaylee. Let's do it.”
Being ship-folk, they quickly oriented themselves within Lorelei's corridors, despite the fact the vessel out-bulked Serenity by a factor of ten. They stepped though the open double doors of Ballroom A, and stopped dead in their tracks.
“Wow,” Wash breathed.
“Golly!” agreed Kaylee.
The ballroom and the people in it faded to inconsequence, dominated by the vast window opening up into space in one great seamless arc from the far end of the room across its entire ceiling. Persephone loomed close overhead, Lorelei set in an orbit which kept a rich purple and flaming orange sunset blazing continually in view.
“We gotta get in here when we're actually in the Black,” Wash muttered, and Kaylee nodded, hearing the deep desire which roughened his voice, although she didn't quite understand it. It did send a little shiver through her, reminding her that he was actually pretty shuai, and that she regretted a little bit that he'd always been so focused on Zoe, even before Kaylee'd hired on.
“So, what do we do now?” she murmured, casting her eye around, a bit intimidated by the surrounding opulence and the elegantly dressed crowd. The pretty pink frock, so stylish just moments ago, now just seemed so, well, Rim.
“I guess we just... blend in. Act like everyone else. Don't do anything to stand out, to call attention to ourselves. To make security notice us.”
“Evening, folks.”
Wash and Kaylee swiveled toward the speaker, who proved to be a very large man wearing the spruce white uniform of the Lorelei's crew. A gold badge reading SECURITY glittered on his chest. A jolt of alarm shocked through Wash and he could feel Kaylee stiffen beside him.
“Welcome aboard, ma'am, sir.” He nodded politely to them both. “Just going around, introducing myself to our new passengers. I'm Lt. Han, Lorelei's chief of security.”
Wash made his lips smile, made his head bob genially, but he couldn't quite manage a 'hello.' Kaylee offered a timid, “Howdy.”
Undeterred by their awkwardness, the officer carried on, holding up their side of the conversation as well. “And you're our lucky newlyweds. The Neidermeyers. Congratulations on your nuptials.”
Wash kick-started his mouth. “Yep, yep, that's us. The Neidermeyers. We're them.”
Smiling, clearly pleased that the chit-chat ball had commenced rolling, Han inquired, “So, what do you all do?”
“Do?”
“For a living,” the security officer prompted gently. “What do you do?”
“Well, um, we, I, um-” Wash looked at Kaylee, and realized she really needed something familiar to latch onto. Falling into the bluff, he embellished on her past, making it their reality. “We run a repair shop. For engines. All types. Rovers. Hovercraft. But we specialize in ship's engines.”
“So you're a mechanic.”
“Yeess... but it's my, my wife here, my wife who's the real genius mechanic.” He set a light hand on Kaylee's forearm, and was dismayed to find her trembling.
“Really?” The security officer turned the force of his attention on her, and Wash felt her arm tense.
“Really!” Wash blurted loudly, bringing the man's eyes back to him, chagrined he had put her on the spot. He decided he would babble on, do whatever it took to keep the focus off Kaylee. “I mean, now, one time, she jump started two engine pods with nothing but hydrogen fumes, blowin' out a powerful lot of sticky, organic refuse.” Wash slid in closer to her, putting his hand at the small of her back, making small, soothing circles with his fingertips. “My honey bunch is amazing.”
“Aw, now, sweetie,” Kaylee replied, eyes fixed perhaps a bit rigidly on the lawman, but still, in Wash's mind, rising valiantly to the occasion, “I well remember that console you reconfigured with naught but duck tape to hand.” Kaylee set one hand against Wash's chest, and he covered it with his palm, pressing it firmly against himself.
“That was nothin', moon-cake.” He tucked himself in tighter, and pressed his lips in reassurance against her temple for a brief moment. “How 'bout the time you fixed that electrolysis chamber by rerouting the injection manifold straight through the fuel interface?”
“Oh, baobei, that was easy as pie.” Now they were snuggled up close, gazing intently into one another's eyes. “Not like when you unjammed that swivelplate with a backburn of plasma through the engine pod.”
“Couldn't have done it without you, sugar lips.” Wash pushed his voice down into a deeper, huskier register. “The way you handled that welding torch was just so... hot.”
Han cleared his throat loudly. “'Scuse me, folks. Shouldn't be taking up your special time together. Enjoy your honeymoon.” He inclined his head politely, touching two fingers to his brow, and moved away.
They stood silently for a long moment, then Kaylee whispered, “Is he gone?”
Wash, who'd been keeping a discreet eye on the lieutenant over her shoulder, murmured, “Yep. He's over chattin' up a couple by the buffet.”
“Oh, Wash.” She sagged against him, and he pulled her tighter to his side.
“You did good. Don't fret. He's just mingling, showing the colors.” He ran a comforting hand up and down her back, then pulled away slightly to smile into her face. “Hey, we get free drinks with our bridal suite. Want something?”
She beamed up at him, eyes wide. “Oh, yeah! That'd be shiny. Somethin' fruity, an' with one of them little parasols?”
“Fruity parasol, comin' up.” He bent the tiny little bit it took to set a kiss on the tip of her nose, then tucked her hand in his elbow, to lead her toward the bar.
~ * ~
“Y' reckoned right, Zoe. They just walked in.”
Mal lounged back in his chair at the small table he shared with Zoe, his shot glass of whiskey held before his lips, hiding their movement.
The two of them had set themselves up in the Deck A Ballroom, under the notion that if Wash and Kaylee did venture from their cabin, they'd most likely show up here. A little random movement, and to anyone observing, it would have seemed two unacquainted passengers, wearing unremarkable middle-management business drab, ended by chance sharing a table in the busy venue.
Mal's chair faced the entrance, which placed Zoe in the position of watching his six. Her slight nod acknowledged the information he'd just passed along.
A long, silent moment passed, then Mal stiffened. “Gorramit,” he bit out.
“Trouble, sir?” She eased up in her chair, getting ready to spring in whatever need be direction, running escape routes through her mind.
He sat up, putting his glass on the table. “He's got his hands all over her.”
“Shen me?”
“That pilot of yours. He's got his gorram hands all up and down my mei mei.”
“My pilot..?”
“I told you this was a bad idea, that we couldn't trust him not to take advantage.”
“Don't recall that part of the conversation, sir.”
“Fine. But I did have my private reservations. Which I kept to my own self, not wantin' to offend your tender sensibilities.”
“My sensibilities aside, sir,” she said softly, lips hardly moving, “Wash ain't the kinda man to take advantage. And I held that opinion well before I started sexin' him up.” His gaze flitted away from her, in a wincing sort of way. “And you shouldn't be carin' if the Neidermeyers strip buck naked, and go at it hammer and tongs in the middle of the dance floor.” He glared at her, mouth and eyes going wide with outrage, but she went on, quiet but firm, “And you shouldn't be knowin' me well enough to have any kinda personal conversation.”
That cooled him, and after a moment, he rose, tossed back his remaining quarter-inch of whiskey, and growled, “You're on watch. I'll be in my bunk.”
~ * ~
Wash and Kaylee found a table, and sat there for a while, content to watch the comings and goings of their social betters, marveling at one lady's assortment of jewelry, or the color of that fella's pants. Wash fetched Kaylee two more fruity parasol drinks, while he slowly sipped down a pint of beer. Alcohol went straight to the circuit that connected his mouth to his brain, unhitching the governor for both volume and content. He realized maybe he should have tasted one of Kaylee's drinks to ascertain its potency when she stood up, flung her hand out to him, and demanded, “Let's dance.”
“Uh, Kaylee,” he started, but still, he was rising, taking her hand, because she'd been loud enough for some of the folks around them to turn and look. As she tugged him onto the dance floor he warned her, “I only know how to waltz. And I last did that in flight school.”
“Well,” she declared cheerily, putting her right hand on his shoulder and using the left to tightly grip his right, “it's a good thing yer leading, 'cuz I can't even do that.”
Eventually, they ended up doing the lowest common denominator of partnered dancing; rocking back and forth gently in time to the music, her hands on his shoulders, his on her waist. That was fine, Wash thought, 'cause they weren't the only couple on the floor in the same configuration. And besides, there were a lot worse ways a guy could be spending his time, other than in close contact with a pretty woman, just soaking up the essence of her. That old Earth-That-Was genius, Einstein, based his whole theory of relativity on that fact.
His musings were cut off when Kaylee's hands slipped off his shoulders, down his sides, and then around to his backside. Her very strong fingers gave his buttocks a healthy squeeze, while she pressed her face into his chest, giggling roguishly. He eeped, then grinned, giving her a little swat on the rear.
“You have had way too many fruity parasols.”
She looked up at him, eyes twinkling. “Just doin' my job is all, makin' folks believe we're newlyweds, an' all.”
“Thinkin' maybe someone needs to go to bed.”
“Now, see,” she said, smiling impishly, “that's just what I'm talkin' about.” Then, she leaned into him, heavily, capturing his mouth with hers, arms twining behind his neck, and, lao tien ye, was she ever a great kisser; tender but strong, completely self-assured. For a long pulse of sweet, fruit-flavored time, he fell into the luxury of her lips, offering up to her the best of his own. Then, sucking in a deep breath, he pulled away from her, putting his hands on her shoulders to push her back a bit.
“Whoa,” he said, voice thick, meaning both “whoa - stop” and “whoa - that totally turned me on.”
She put her hand to her lips, looking down to the deck, then back up at him, eyes wide, seeming a little dazed.
“Whoa,” she repeated, distractedly.
“Maybe,” he said, heart pounding a little too hard. “Maybe we're a little tired. Stressed. Maybe we should get to our bunk. Get to sleep.” Then, clarifying emphatically, “Just sleep. Sleeping is good.”
“Yeah. Sleep.”
~ * ~
Was a good thing Mal had retired to his bunk, Zoe decided, as she watched Wash pull away from the smooch he had just laid on Kaylee. Because she didn't know if she could have held him back from charging across the dance floor to defend the young mechanic's honor. In fact, recognizing that slightly fevered expression on her lover's face, she wasn't too sure she would have tried to restrain the captain.
She watched them leave the ballroom, features stony.
~ * ~
On to Honeymooning with the Neidermeyers, (2/2).