DW/FF crossover fic: The Engineer's Gift (6/21)
Title: The Engineer’s Gift
Author: shan21non
Rating: PG-13
Beta Readers: buffyaddict13 and inkhand , who are the best!
Warnings: Swearing in Mandarin!
Pairings: Ten/Rose, Mal/Inara, a bit of Simon/Kaylee
Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who or Firefly. How is that fair?
Summary: When the Doctor takes a wrong turn, he and Rose find themselves aboard Serenity. Confusion, explosions, mystery, romance, and adventure ensue!
Chapter one Chapter two Chapter three Chapter four
Chapter five
A/N: Thank you so much for all of your lovely comments on the last chapter. You are the best! This chapter features Firefly characters a bit more heavily than DW, but I hope those of you who are less familiar with Firefly will stick with it :)
When we left off, the Doctor and Rose were about to rush upstairs where apparently a routine cargo inspection had just gone horribly wrong. This chapter picks up from Mal's perspective on things, starting a few minutes earlier. Hope you enjoy!
Remember, for the Chinese phrases, all you have to do is hover your mouse over the Mandarin, and a translation will pop up.
CHAPTER SIX
When Mal was a kid of about sixteen, he used to go off by himself. After his chores were done, he’d walk out into the open prairie behind his mother’s ranch and find a place to set down. Lying on his back in the tall grasses, he was swallowed up from view. The wind made the thin green stalks sway to and fro in a lazy, aimless sort of way, and the hot sun seeped in between them to bathe his body in its warmth. He’d lie there, feeling satisfied after a long day’s work, and look up through the grass at that clear blue sky.
Some days he’d stay until the sun went down, lost in the twinkling dots of light that peppered the blackness of space. He knew even then that they called to him, that he wasn’t meant to stay on that ranch forever. He knew it even more surely when the Alliance began reaching out to the Rim planets.
The purple bellies arrived on Shadow later that year. Then more. Then more. They marched through the dirt roads of the planet, offering the bright light of civilization-for the small price of independence. The people wouldn’t hear of it, of course. They were hardworking farmers and tradesmen, fiercely self-reliant and proud, and they didn’t need any government agency giving them handouts.
When the Alliance declared war on those who would reject their “kind offer,” Mal was the first in his town to sign up to fight back. His mother didn’t try to stop him. She didn’t even cry. She just nodded and told him to come back in one piece.
It wasn’t like her not to follow her own advice.
All that remained of Shadow now was a smoldering black rock, hanging in space as a warning to others: Resist and perish.
The Alliance won. They won the whole damn war, and they took his home away. So, Mal found himself a ship and took to the skies. But sometimes, when he looked into the infinite blackness of space, Mal felt like he was back in that prairie, kicking back after a hard day’s work.
Then there were times like this, when he was forced to accept that the ‘Verse was a different place than it was when he was a kid.
“Piece of cake, right Sir?” Zoe said to his left.
“We’ll see,” he grimly replied.
Mal gritted his teeth as he watched the cargo bay doors lower to reveal two men, one tall and one short. Next to him, he saw Zoe tense as well. The pair wore the uniforms of local police. They weren’t Alliance, but they were near enough. They were complicit in the Alliance’s work. And now they were on his gorram ship.
“Howdy, boys!” he called out, forcing a cheerful smile onto his face.
“Captain… Harbatkin,” The Tall One read off of his clipboard.
Mal didn’t flinch at the false name. He’d never changed the ship’s registration after he bought it. Whoever Captain Harbatkin was, he hadn’t left Serenity in the best condition, so Mal figured that the least the bastard could do was throw in his identity to ease some traveling woes.
“That’s me,” he offered, holding out his hand.
The Short One took it and gave it a firm shake. The Tall One merely looked back at his clipboard.
“We’re here to inspect the cargo that you picked up on this moon today.”
“You’re lookin’ at it,” the Captain replied, nodding at the stacked crates to their left.
The Short One moved without hesitation, but The Tall One stayed behind. Mal knew this procedure well. It was time for the not-so-subtle Interrogation of the Dubious-Looking Captain.
“Who supplied you with this cargo?”
“The Alliance,” Mal said.
“Don’t get cute,” The Tall One snapped.
“Haven’t been accused of that for quite some time,” Mal smirked. When he got no reaction, he continued brusquely.
“I just mean that these bugs are part of the Alliance Agricultural Outreach Program, scheduled for Paquin. Official Alliance cargo, born and bred in a government lab to help spread the benefits of civilization across the ‘Verse.”
He couldn’t help the sarcasm that slipped into his tone by the end of his reply. However, the Tall One didn’t seem to be paying him much attention; his eyes were fluttering about the cargo bay.
“It’s not unusual for a ship like this to take on some less savory cargo from time to time. Firefly transports are known for their nooks and crannies. It’d be easy to stash contraband in places that a simple search would never uncover,” The Tall One said.
Mal raised an eyebrow.
“Well, then I guess I’m lucky that this is a simple search.”
“Sir,” Zoe said tensely.
Mal forced a laugh.
“I’m kiddin’! These guys can take a joke, can’t ya fellas?”
His question was met with stony silence.
“I think you’ll find our captain’s sense of humor refreshing, given time.”
All four occupants craned their necks to see Shepherd Book descending the metal steps.
“What a shame we don’t have time,” The Tall One returned tersely. “Let me get back to the point. These goods didn’t come directly from the Alliance. Who was your middle man?”
“Fella goes by the name of Moop,” Mal said without hesitation.
The Short One looked up sharply from his intense perusal of the crates and shot a significant glance at his associate. The moment did not slip past the notice any of the crew.
“Well, this must be the first time Moop’s ever peddled legitimate wares,” The Tall One scoffed.
“I wouldn’t know. It’s my first time doin’ business with him,” Mal breezed.
“But not your first time doing business with someone who likes to fly below the Alliance’s radar,” The Tall One said, almost too quickly.
Mal frowned. His hands clenched into fists once more, and he could feel his patience dwindling.
“Is there something wrong with the cargo, officers?” Book asked. His calming voice was as straightforward and reasonable as ever.
The Tall One tilted his head slightly and continued speaking to the room at large.
“It just makes a man wonder-why would the Alliance suddenly decide to give Moop the business?”
“Who can predict why the Alliance does what it does? We’re just followin’ orders,” Mal said dryly.
The Tall One very nearly smirked.
“Oh? Is that what you do? Follow orders?” he asked.
Once again, Book interjected a measured response before Mal could let his ire get the best of him.
“Regular merchant vessels tend to shy away from the Rim planets. They can be a bit… rougher. Moop is presumably in contact with the sort of ships that aren’t quite as squeamish,” the preacher offered.
The Tall One nodded, as if in approval of this deduction.
“Like Serenity,” he said.
Book nodded, and the Tall Man continued.
“So then this cargo must be very, very important. I mean, if the Alliance is willing to deal with the likes of Moop to get it into the hands of those simple, uncivilized folks,” he said nastily.
Mal could hold his tongue no longer.
"Look, if there’s somethin’ fishy with this cargo, then it’s news to me. And if there ain’t, we’d best be leavin’ the surface so we can make planetfall on schedule.”
Suddenly The Short One spoke up.
“Alpha, we haven’t got time for this,” he said. Mal would have expected the officer to sound bored or irritated, but he didn’t. He sounded anxious.
The Tall One nodded in understanding, and when he turned back to Mal, the captain saw the same urgency reflected in the man’s expression.
“Look, Captain, we know who you are,” he started, and Mal tensed.
The officer continued, speaking in clipped tones that brooked no contradiction.
“We know what kind of ship this is. We know who you keep company with-a certain doctor. And because we know all this, we know that Serenity isn’t fit to be hauling this cargo.”
Mal narrowed his eyes as the true nature of this ‘routine inspection’ became clear. He had two Alliance-loving zealots on his ship, telling him that his ship wasn’t good enough to transport precious government supplies. It was just like local law enforcement to get power crazy and step all over decent people trying to make a living.
“Well, I got a few problems with that assessment, friend, and I’d gladly list ‘em out for you, but as your partner over there mentioned, we ain’t got the time,” the Captain said frostily. “So if there’s nothin’ wrong with the cargo, I think we’ll just be on our way.”
The Short One spoke again, his eyes glued to the yellow stars of the Alliance seal that adorned the topmost crate.
“There’s everything wrong with your cargo,” he said gravely.
Footsteps rang out on the grating of the catwalk, and Mal tore his eyes from the short officer to see Wash above them.
“Uh, Captain?” the pilot said uncertainly.
“Really not the time, Wash. I’m dealin’ with the police,” Mal nearly growled.
Wash ran his hands through his blond mane and began again, hesitantly.
“Well, that’s the thing, Mal. See, I just got a wave from the police.”
The Short One shot another urgent glance at The Tall One. Zoe frowned and tried to catch Mal’s eye, but the Captain was waiting for Wash to continue. After a moment’s pause, he did.
“They want to inform us that they’ll be performing a routine cargo check in about twenty minutes.”
There was the briefest of pauses. Then Mal spoke softly.
“Now ain’t that strange.”
A loud clicking sound filled the air, and in a split second, Mal and Zoe each had a gun cocked and fixed on one of the intruders. The men froze. Mal spoke without taking his eyes off The Tall One.
“Wash, get back up front. We’re takin’ off without further delay.”
“What should I tell local law?” the pilot asked.
“Tell ‘em whatever you gotta to make ‘em think we’re stickin’ around. You just aim us toward Paquin and get us off this rock ‘fore we get tied up in any more commotion.”
Mal heard Wash turn and go, and he gestured at The Tall One with the muzzle of his weapon.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
When the man hesitated, Mal lunged, pushing him to the ground. The captain leaned forward with his elbow, pinning the man to the metal floor by his neck, making him gasp for breath
“I asked you a question,” he hissed.
“Don’t you get it? It’s the Great Seal!” The Tall One wheezed painfully, his eyes wide.
Mal pressed harder on the man’s throat.
“Cao your gorram Alliance seal!” he shouted.
The Tall One’s eyes rolled back in his head, but he managed to let out a desperate wail.
“Do it, Beta!”
The next thing Mal knew, there was a loud BOOM and the cargo bay was full of smoke. He looked up, which gave The Tall One the opportunity to bring his knee into Mal’s stomach. With a groan, Mal released the man’s throat, and he disappeared into the billowing black clouds. Mal heard Zoe and Book shouting, and then a single gunshot rang out. He could just make out the orange edges of tall flames in the direction of the cargo.
Crawling on his hands and knees, Mal felt his way towards the intercom panel on the north wall. He reached it just as he heard Jayne and Simon shouting questions into the smoke. He jammed his thumb into the button and croaked out an order.
“WASH, TAKE US UP! WE’LL THROW THESE SONS OF BITCHES OUT THE AIR HATCH IF WE HAVE TO. JUST GET US IN THE AIR!”
“Change of plans, dear passengers,” Wash’s voice rang out. “You’re probably going to want to hold on to something.”
He braced himself for liftoff. He heard the metallic sound of the cargo bay doors closing followed by, curiously, the sound of compressed air. A second later, Book came into view. He was spraying down the smoking remains of the crates with the ship’s rusty old fire extinguisher.
The Captain’s eyes scanned the cargo bay, seeking the two imposters.
“They escaped out the doors before they closed. I could just make them out through the smoke,” Book wheezed.
Jayne and Simon came into view as well.
“Did somebody shoot the cops?” Jayne asked, looking forlorn.
Zoe tried to speak, coughed, and then simply gestured at the floor with her gun. Mal looked at the spot she was pointing to and saw several pools of red liquid. He gave her a curt nod. Message received. She’d managed to shoot and injure one of them before they escaped.
“Aw, Zoe! Vera an’ I’ve been itching for action all day!” Jayne whined, clutching his gun.
If a person could cough scornfully, Zoe did it then.
“How bad’s the cargo?” Mal asked.
“Never mind that; is anyone hurt?” Simon interjected.
Zoe coughed again, and then managed to speak.
“It was a small explosive. Smoke bomb. Only took out the crate it hit. Shepherd managed to stop it from spreading.”
“I asked-”
“We’re all fine, Simon,” Mal cut him off.
“What happened?”
Mal looked up to see Inara rushing down from the direction of her shuttle, silk robe fluttering behind her. Before Mal could respond, he swung around again to see Rose and the Doctor coming from the direction of the med bay.
“It would appear we’re running away,” the Doctor replied.
Mal was surprised to see the man up and about, so it took him a second to register his words, but when he did, Mal bristled.
“We’re not running away! We’re just… leaving a little more suddenly and quickly than planned,” he said defensively.
“Wait a minute, you can’t just take off!” Rose said. “What are the Doctor and I supposed to do? Our ship-”
“Some thanks I get for savin’ your friend’s life,” Mal interrupted.
Simon raised his hand a little bit. “Actually, I think that was me,” he ventured.
“I’m just sayin’, a little gratitude would be nice,” Mal pressed, ignoring the young doctor.
“Yeah, heck of a deal. Do you always throw in a free kidnapping?” Rose said.
Mal’s eyebrows shot skyward.
“Kidnapping?” he balked. “Listen, it’s your fault we’re in this mess!”
“How do you figure?” Rose asked.
Mal pointed at the man standing beside her.
“Those men, whoever they were, they said they knew we had a ‘certain doctor’ onboard.”
“And how do you know it was my doctor and not yours?” Rose demanded.
“I-”
Mal stopped mid-sentence. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him.
“‘Cause from he’s told me, Simon’s got just as much to hide from law enforcement as we do,” Rose added.
Mal turned to Simon, who was staring contemplatively at Rose.
“You told her about your sister?” Mal asked.
Simon looked back at the captain.
“I trust her,” he said simply.
Mal maintained his steady gaze.
“You’d better,” he said.
Suddenly, Wash’s voice echoed through the cargo room.
“Aaaand we’re just breaking atmo now, folks. That’s another successful escape from almost certain doom by Washburn Airlines. Don’t forget to tip your pilot on your way out.”
“Well, we’re not going back now. Don’t worry, Rose. We’ll hitch a ride back from someone later,” the Doctor announced.
Mal frowned. The man sounded perfectly cheerful, hardly like someone who had just escaped death and was now stuck with people of questionable moral character.
“Mal, what happened?” Inara repeated.
He sighed and wiped his hand over his face.
“Perhaps this is a tale that can be rehashed over a nice hot meal?” Book suggested. “Dinner’s just about ready. Let’s head up to the kitchen.”
“Right, I’ll just get my clothes sorted, shall I?” the Doctor asked.
Indeed, Mal saw now that the Doctor’s shirt was torn open and his coat was missing. The Captain was so weary that he didn’t even order Jayne to watch their guest. He just nodded absently and watched the Doctor and Rose disappear again. Then he followed the rest of his crew upstairs to the kitchen.
Chinese Translation:
Cao = Fuck
End Notes: You know what I heard? People who leave comments on LJ are, on average, 50% more lovely and intelligent than those who don’t. Curious, isn’t it?
Click on for chapter seven!
Author: shan21non
Rating: PG-13
Beta Readers: buffyaddict13 and inkhand , who are the best!
Warnings: Swearing in Mandarin!
Pairings: Ten/Rose, Mal/Inara, a bit of Simon/Kaylee
Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who or Firefly. How is that fair?
Summary: When the Doctor takes a wrong turn, he and Rose find themselves aboard Serenity. Confusion, explosions, mystery, romance, and adventure ensue!
Chapter one Chapter two Chapter three Chapter four
Chapter five
A/N: Thank you so much for all of your lovely comments on the last chapter. You are the best! This chapter features Firefly characters a bit more heavily than DW, but I hope those of you who are less familiar with Firefly will stick with it :)
When we left off, the Doctor and Rose were about to rush upstairs where apparently a routine cargo inspection had just gone horribly wrong. This chapter picks up from Mal's perspective on things, starting a few minutes earlier. Hope you enjoy!
Remember, for the Chinese phrases, all you have to do is hover your mouse over the Mandarin, and a translation will pop up.
CHAPTER SIX
When Mal was a kid of about sixteen, he used to go off by himself. After his chores were done, he’d walk out into the open prairie behind his mother’s ranch and find a place to set down. Lying on his back in the tall grasses, he was swallowed up from view. The wind made the thin green stalks sway to and fro in a lazy, aimless sort of way, and the hot sun seeped in between them to bathe his body in its warmth. He’d lie there, feeling satisfied after a long day’s work, and look up through the grass at that clear blue sky.
Some days he’d stay until the sun went down, lost in the twinkling dots of light that peppered the blackness of space. He knew even then that they called to him, that he wasn’t meant to stay on that ranch forever. He knew it even more surely when the Alliance began reaching out to the Rim planets.
The purple bellies arrived on Shadow later that year. Then more. Then more. They marched through the dirt roads of the planet, offering the bright light of civilization-for the small price of independence. The people wouldn’t hear of it, of course. They were hardworking farmers and tradesmen, fiercely self-reliant and proud, and they didn’t need any government agency giving them handouts.
When the Alliance declared war on those who would reject their “kind offer,” Mal was the first in his town to sign up to fight back. His mother didn’t try to stop him. She didn’t even cry. She just nodded and told him to come back in one piece.
It wasn’t like her not to follow her own advice.
All that remained of Shadow now was a smoldering black rock, hanging in space as a warning to others: Resist and perish.
The Alliance won. They won the whole damn war, and they took his home away. So, Mal found himself a ship and took to the skies. But sometimes, when he looked into the infinite blackness of space, Mal felt like he was back in that prairie, kicking back after a hard day’s work.
Then there were times like this, when he was forced to accept that the ‘Verse was a different place than it was when he was a kid.
“Piece of cake, right Sir?” Zoe said to his left.
“We’ll see,” he grimly replied.
Mal gritted his teeth as he watched the cargo bay doors lower to reveal two men, one tall and one short. Next to him, he saw Zoe tense as well. The pair wore the uniforms of local police. They weren’t Alliance, but they were near enough. They were complicit in the Alliance’s work. And now they were on his gorram ship.
“Howdy, boys!” he called out, forcing a cheerful smile onto his face.
“Captain… Harbatkin,” The Tall One read off of his clipboard.
Mal didn’t flinch at the false name. He’d never changed the ship’s registration after he bought it. Whoever Captain Harbatkin was, he hadn’t left Serenity in the best condition, so Mal figured that the least the bastard could do was throw in his identity to ease some traveling woes.
“That’s me,” he offered, holding out his hand.
The Short One took it and gave it a firm shake. The Tall One merely looked back at his clipboard.
“We’re here to inspect the cargo that you picked up on this moon today.”
“You’re lookin’ at it,” the Captain replied, nodding at the stacked crates to their left.
The Short One moved without hesitation, but The Tall One stayed behind. Mal knew this procedure well. It was time for the not-so-subtle Interrogation of the Dubious-Looking Captain.
“Who supplied you with this cargo?”
“The Alliance,” Mal said.
“Don’t get cute,” The Tall One snapped.
“Haven’t been accused of that for quite some time,” Mal smirked. When he got no reaction, he continued brusquely.
“I just mean that these bugs are part of the Alliance Agricultural Outreach Program, scheduled for Paquin. Official Alliance cargo, born and bred in a government lab to help spread the benefits of civilization across the ‘Verse.”
He couldn’t help the sarcasm that slipped into his tone by the end of his reply. However, the Tall One didn’t seem to be paying him much attention; his eyes were fluttering about the cargo bay.
“It’s not unusual for a ship like this to take on some less savory cargo from time to time. Firefly transports are known for their nooks and crannies. It’d be easy to stash contraband in places that a simple search would never uncover,” The Tall One said.
Mal raised an eyebrow.
“Well, then I guess I’m lucky that this is a simple search.”
“Sir,” Zoe said tensely.
Mal forced a laugh.
“I’m kiddin’! These guys can take a joke, can’t ya fellas?”
His question was met with stony silence.
“I think you’ll find our captain’s sense of humor refreshing, given time.”
All four occupants craned their necks to see Shepherd Book descending the metal steps.
“What a shame we don’t have time,” The Tall One returned tersely. “Let me get back to the point. These goods didn’t come directly from the Alliance. Who was your middle man?”
“Fella goes by the name of Moop,” Mal said without hesitation.
The Short One looked up sharply from his intense perusal of the crates and shot a significant glance at his associate. The moment did not slip past the notice any of the crew.
“Well, this must be the first time Moop’s ever peddled legitimate wares,” The Tall One scoffed.
“I wouldn’t know. It’s my first time doin’ business with him,” Mal breezed.
“But not your first time doing business with someone who likes to fly below the Alliance’s radar,” The Tall One said, almost too quickly.
Mal frowned. His hands clenched into fists once more, and he could feel his patience dwindling.
“Is there something wrong with the cargo, officers?” Book asked. His calming voice was as straightforward and reasonable as ever.
The Tall One tilted his head slightly and continued speaking to the room at large.
“It just makes a man wonder-why would the Alliance suddenly decide to give Moop the business?”
“Who can predict why the Alliance does what it does? We’re just followin’ orders,” Mal said dryly.
The Tall One very nearly smirked.
“Oh? Is that what you do? Follow orders?” he asked.
Once again, Book interjected a measured response before Mal could let his ire get the best of him.
“Regular merchant vessels tend to shy away from the Rim planets. They can be a bit… rougher. Moop is presumably in contact with the sort of ships that aren’t quite as squeamish,” the preacher offered.
The Tall One nodded, as if in approval of this deduction.
“Like Serenity,” he said.
Book nodded, and the Tall Man continued.
“So then this cargo must be very, very important. I mean, if the Alliance is willing to deal with the likes of Moop to get it into the hands of those simple, uncivilized folks,” he said nastily.
Mal could hold his tongue no longer.
"Look, if there’s somethin’ fishy with this cargo, then it’s news to me. And if there ain’t, we’d best be leavin’ the surface so we can make planetfall on schedule.”
Suddenly The Short One spoke up.
“Alpha, we haven’t got time for this,” he said. Mal would have expected the officer to sound bored or irritated, but he didn’t. He sounded anxious.
The Tall One nodded in understanding, and when he turned back to Mal, the captain saw the same urgency reflected in the man’s expression.
“Look, Captain, we know who you are,” he started, and Mal tensed.
The officer continued, speaking in clipped tones that brooked no contradiction.
“We know what kind of ship this is. We know who you keep company with-a certain doctor. And because we know all this, we know that Serenity isn’t fit to be hauling this cargo.”
Mal narrowed his eyes as the true nature of this ‘routine inspection’ became clear. He had two Alliance-loving zealots on his ship, telling him that his ship wasn’t good enough to transport precious government supplies. It was just like local law enforcement to get power crazy and step all over decent people trying to make a living.
“Well, I got a few problems with that assessment, friend, and I’d gladly list ‘em out for you, but as your partner over there mentioned, we ain’t got the time,” the Captain said frostily. “So if there’s nothin’ wrong with the cargo, I think we’ll just be on our way.”
The Short One spoke again, his eyes glued to the yellow stars of the Alliance seal that adorned the topmost crate.
“There’s everything wrong with your cargo,” he said gravely.
Footsteps rang out on the grating of the catwalk, and Mal tore his eyes from the short officer to see Wash above them.
“Uh, Captain?” the pilot said uncertainly.
“Really not the time, Wash. I’m dealin’ with the police,” Mal nearly growled.
Wash ran his hands through his blond mane and began again, hesitantly.
“Well, that’s the thing, Mal. See, I just got a wave from the police.”
The Short One shot another urgent glance at The Tall One. Zoe frowned and tried to catch Mal’s eye, but the Captain was waiting for Wash to continue. After a moment’s pause, he did.
“They want to inform us that they’ll be performing a routine cargo check in about twenty minutes.”
There was the briefest of pauses. Then Mal spoke softly.
“Now ain’t that strange.”
A loud clicking sound filled the air, and in a split second, Mal and Zoe each had a gun cocked and fixed on one of the intruders. The men froze. Mal spoke without taking his eyes off The Tall One.
“Wash, get back up front. We’re takin’ off without further delay.”
“What should I tell local law?” the pilot asked.
“Tell ‘em whatever you gotta to make ‘em think we’re stickin’ around. You just aim us toward Paquin and get us off this rock ‘fore we get tied up in any more commotion.”
Mal heard Wash turn and go, and he gestured at The Tall One with the muzzle of his weapon.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
When the man hesitated, Mal lunged, pushing him to the ground. The captain leaned forward with his elbow, pinning the man to the metal floor by his neck, making him gasp for breath
“I asked you a question,” he hissed.
“Don’t you get it? It’s the Great Seal!” The Tall One wheezed painfully, his eyes wide.
Mal pressed harder on the man’s throat.
“Cao your gorram Alliance seal!” he shouted.
The Tall One’s eyes rolled back in his head, but he managed to let out a desperate wail.
“Do it, Beta!”
The next thing Mal knew, there was a loud BOOM and the cargo bay was full of smoke. He looked up, which gave The Tall One the opportunity to bring his knee into Mal’s stomach. With a groan, Mal released the man’s throat, and he disappeared into the billowing black clouds. Mal heard Zoe and Book shouting, and then a single gunshot rang out. He could just make out the orange edges of tall flames in the direction of the cargo.
Crawling on his hands and knees, Mal felt his way towards the intercom panel on the north wall. He reached it just as he heard Jayne and Simon shouting questions into the smoke. He jammed his thumb into the button and croaked out an order.
“WASH, TAKE US UP! WE’LL THROW THESE SONS OF BITCHES OUT THE AIR HATCH IF WE HAVE TO. JUST GET US IN THE AIR!”
“Change of plans, dear passengers,” Wash’s voice rang out. “You’re probably going to want to hold on to something.”
He braced himself for liftoff. He heard the metallic sound of the cargo bay doors closing followed by, curiously, the sound of compressed air. A second later, Book came into view. He was spraying down the smoking remains of the crates with the ship’s rusty old fire extinguisher.
The Captain’s eyes scanned the cargo bay, seeking the two imposters.
“They escaped out the doors before they closed. I could just make them out through the smoke,” Book wheezed.
Jayne and Simon came into view as well.
“Did somebody shoot the cops?” Jayne asked, looking forlorn.
Zoe tried to speak, coughed, and then simply gestured at the floor with her gun. Mal looked at the spot she was pointing to and saw several pools of red liquid. He gave her a curt nod. Message received. She’d managed to shoot and injure one of them before they escaped.
“Aw, Zoe! Vera an’ I’ve been itching for action all day!” Jayne whined, clutching his gun.
If a person could cough scornfully, Zoe did it then.
“How bad’s the cargo?” Mal asked.
“Never mind that; is anyone hurt?” Simon interjected.
Zoe coughed again, and then managed to speak.
“It was a small explosive. Smoke bomb. Only took out the crate it hit. Shepherd managed to stop it from spreading.”
“I asked-”
“We’re all fine, Simon,” Mal cut him off.
“What happened?”
Mal looked up to see Inara rushing down from the direction of her shuttle, silk robe fluttering behind her. Before Mal could respond, he swung around again to see Rose and the Doctor coming from the direction of the med bay.
“It would appear we’re running away,” the Doctor replied.
Mal was surprised to see the man up and about, so it took him a second to register his words, but when he did, Mal bristled.
“We’re not running away! We’re just… leaving a little more suddenly and quickly than planned,” he said defensively.
“Wait a minute, you can’t just take off!” Rose said. “What are the Doctor and I supposed to do? Our ship-”
“Some thanks I get for savin’ your friend’s life,” Mal interrupted.
Simon raised his hand a little bit. “Actually, I think that was me,” he ventured.
“I’m just sayin’, a little gratitude would be nice,” Mal pressed, ignoring the young doctor.
“Yeah, heck of a deal. Do you always throw in a free kidnapping?” Rose said.
Mal’s eyebrows shot skyward.
“Kidnapping?” he balked. “Listen, it’s your fault we’re in this mess!”
“How do you figure?” Rose asked.
Mal pointed at the man standing beside her.
“Those men, whoever they were, they said they knew we had a ‘certain doctor’ onboard.”
“And how do you know it was my doctor and not yours?” Rose demanded.
“I-”
Mal stopped mid-sentence. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him.
“‘Cause from he’s told me, Simon’s got just as much to hide from law enforcement as we do,” Rose added.
Mal turned to Simon, who was staring contemplatively at Rose.
“You told her about your sister?” Mal asked.
Simon looked back at the captain.
“I trust her,” he said simply.
Mal maintained his steady gaze.
“You’d better,” he said.
Suddenly, Wash’s voice echoed through the cargo room.
“Aaaand we’re just breaking atmo now, folks. That’s another successful escape from almost certain doom by Washburn Airlines. Don’t forget to tip your pilot on your way out.”
“Well, we’re not going back now. Don’t worry, Rose. We’ll hitch a ride back from someone later,” the Doctor announced.
Mal frowned. The man sounded perfectly cheerful, hardly like someone who had just escaped death and was now stuck with people of questionable moral character.
“Mal, what happened?” Inara repeated.
He sighed and wiped his hand over his face.
“Perhaps this is a tale that can be rehashed over a nice hot meal?” Book suggested. “Dinner’s just about ready. Let’s head up to the kitchen.”
“Right, I’ll just get my clothes sorted, shall I?” the Doctor asked.
Indeed, Mal saw now that the Doctor’s shirt was torn open and his coat was missing. The Captain was so weary that he didn’t even order Jayne to watch their guest. He just nodded absently and watched the Doctor and Rose disappear again. Then he followed the rest of his crew upstairs to the kitchen.
Chinese Translation:
Cao = Fuck
End Notes: You know what I heard? People who leave comments on LJ are, on average, 50% more lovely and intelligent than those who don’t. Curious, isn’t it?
Click on for chapter seven!