FIC: Begin the Beguine (2/5)
Title: Begin the Beguine (2/5)
Author: sharelle
Rating: PG-13
Setting: Pre-Series (but after the crew as we know it has all come together - minus Book, Simon and River)
Pairing(s): Wash/Zoë (with occasional friendship-y moments among others)
Written for: thegranddewru
Thank you: To ninamonkey for the terrific beta. And to edgechick816 for organizing the ficathon.
Previous installments: Part 1
Summary: The crew of Serenity is offered a very lucrative job by a wealthy aristocrat. But when Mal is prevented from accompanying Zoë to the negotiations, there's only one man suitable for the job.
Begin the Beguine
by Sharelle
Chapter 2 - Movement the Second
Wash didn't see much of Zoë until they reached their destination. However, if the truth be known, he was probably avoiding her just as much as she was avoiding him. Initially, Wash thought he had been doing the right thing by warning Mal about the potential problems this job would cause; now he wasn't so sure. If he'd just kept his big mouth shut, by the night's end they might have all been enjoying the comforts of one of the finer New Xianian jail cells, enjoying three squares a day and the paranoid merriment of the group shower. In comparison, all that sounded pretty damn shiny.
The wrench he'd inadvertently thrown into the original plan had instead managed to irritate both the captain and the first mate. It had also earned Wash a role in the very job he had hoped to avoid in the first place. He thought it best to stay out of Zoë's way for as long as possible if he didn't want a black eye to match. It wouldn't do to show up mangled at a fancy party, after all.
At least there were a few people onboard who were unquestionably happy to reach their destination. Inara, for one, was able to dip into a lucrative client base on New Xian which, while not a core planet, offered a substantially higher-class clientele than the places they'd visited lately. She even went out of her way to express her gratitude to Wash - especially after learning what had transpired in the galley on the morning prior. Ever the ambassador, Inara also made an attempt to smooth over the tension that had developed among some members of the crew: she offered to replace Zoë as Mal's representative at Thornton's party. Mal adamantly refused.
Kaylee was thrilled to reach the planet, of course. She was always happy to see anywhere new.
And Jayne . . . well, he probably didn't care one way or the other.
By the time Serenity landed on New Xian, it was approximately 11:30 in the morning, local time. They touched down at the Greendorne Docks just outside the capital city of Artemis, and settled in for a layover that would last, at least, until the next morning.
Soon after docking, a small group prepared to disembark and head into the city to pick up some basic supplies, as well as some special items that would be required for the meet-and-greet with Thornton in a few hours. At this point, Wash knew it would be decidedly more difficult to avoid Zoë - especially since the next place he found himself was on the uncomfortably close quarters of the mule, making his way through the bustling city streets with an irritated warrior woman at his back.
Wash slowed the mule as several well-dressed pedestrians funneled casually along the roadway. "So where are we headed first?" he asked as he waited for the path to clear.
"Need to find a spot that will sell a nice dress cheap," Zoë answered. "Don't want to go so fancy that we spend our take before we make it, but can't look so dowdy as to seem out of place."
The fact that the woman could probably make wearing a protein crate look appealing wasn't lost on Wash, though he was smart enough to keep that particular thought to himself. Instead he said, "We could maybe save a little cash if you borrowed something from Inara."
Zoë gave him a lopsided look that Wash swore actually bordered on amusement. "I think they'd be a mite short on me, don't you, pilot?"
Wash was a bit surprised; Zoë didn't seem as irritated as he'd imagined she'd be. He was certainly glad of that, and wondered if a joke or two at this juncture would be pushing it. He shrugged, looking wistful. "Oh, for the wisdom to be up to date on women's fashions."
"Besides," Zoë added, "too much form and not a lot of function."
"Doesn't functionality sort of defeat the purpose of getting all dressed up?"
"We're not just getting gussied up for a night on the town, pilot," Zoë said. "We have a job to do."
"Work, work, work," Wash playfully droned as he jolted the mule back into motion.
"Speakin' of work," a voice called from the rear of the vehicle, "don't forget we need to pick up a thermalizer while we're here." Kaylee sat perched on the rear of the mule, her legs swinging over the side.
"Check," Wash called over his shoulder.
"We got enough for that?" Zoë asked.
"Shouldn't be no problem," Kaylee answered. "Not if you know how to haggle 'em down to what they're really worth. And it's cheaper than buying a whole new glycol channel for the compression coil. Although," she added, "we don't get a new one of those eventually, we'll be overheatin' before too long."
"Seems like a lot of things are hinging on us getting paid for this job," Wash said to Zoë.
"Seems like," she replied.
"Look, Zoë," he began, "I'm sorry if I caused a problem. I honestly thought warning Mal about the warrant was a good thing, but I certainly didn't mean-"
"Don't dwell on it, Washburne," she interrupted. "It's nothing that wouldn't have happened anyway. Even if the captain were going to Thornton's shindig, it stands to reason I'd still have to be there to back him. No real harm done. You just let me handle all the talking, and don't go flashing that caterpillar on your lip to too many of the fancies. We'll do just fine."
"Huh?" Wash asked. The mule swerved a bit as he turned his head reflexively to face her. "Flashing my what now?"
"Stop here," Zoë cut in, ignoring his outburst.
"Wait-what?" Wash persisted.
"Here, pilot, stop the mule."
Wash was pushed toward the vehicle's handles when Zoë's body suddenly pressed hard against his back. She stretched out one of her long legs and applied her foot to the brake, jolting the mule to a stop. Wash was a mite speechless as he felt her unwrap herself from behind him and swing her leg over the seat in a smooth dismount.
"Back seat driver!" he eventually managed.
"Ooh," Kaylee gasped and Wash looked up to see where they had stopped.
There was a small dress shop across the street. It looked fairly modest for a city the size of Artemis, where the ladies seemed to get dressed up just to be seen walking about, but it didn't look completely undistinguished either. It must have been doing a fair business since the proprietor could afford to hire live girls to model in the front windows, rather than the lifeless antique mannequins some of the lower-class places needed to resort to.
Kaylee had slid off the rear of the mule and was staring with starry-eyed longing at the shop. "Oh, Zoë, they're so pretty! You're so lucky: Afternoon of shopping, a fancy party to look forward to . . . " She sighed. "They all look so glamorous, don't they?"
Then Zoë did something that would have caused Wash's head to spin, had it not been for its auspiciously firm attachment to his neck: She looked down at Kaylee and gave the girl the biggest, most radiant smile he had ever seen.
She was every bit as breathtaking as he imagined she'd be - and then some. Her entire face lit up and her eyes practically sparkled in the early afternoon sun. Those gorgeous lips, which Wash was certain had captivated many a red-blooded male, perfectly framed her flawless teeth. And her dimples . . . Wo de ma he ta de fengkuang de waisheng dou, the woman had dimples!
Wash couldn't help but feel some tiny - bordering on gargantuan - twinge of jealousy for the young mechanic and whatever she had done to endear herself to Serenity's first mate.
Well, Kaylee's sweet, a little voice reminded him.
I can be sweet! Wash's brain argued back. Has she not noticed the toy dinosaurs, or my boyish penchant for colorful shirts? Since when have I exuded anything besides sweet?
So many thoughts were racing through his head all at once, that Wash almost didn't notice how wide his eyes had gotten or that his mouth was hanging open so much a local insect colony could have easily taken up residence. He managed to clamp it shut with an audible pop, but continued to stare - probably looking just as captivated as little Kaylee had been of the dress shop windows.
"Laotian fu," he whispered.
"Something about it all being part of the job takes a little of the fun out, I suppose," Zoë answered Kaylee. She then turned to Wash and her wide smile melted into an expression that was equal parts amusement and confusion. "You alright there, Washburne?"
Wash snapped out of it very quickly at that. "Fine," he said abruptly, blinking his dried eyes rapidly. "I just realized I don't have the first clue where to look for the proper attire. Haven't needed to wear anything so formal since graduation from flight school."
"Well," Zoë nodded with a somewhat skeptical tone in her voice, as though his cover story left much to be desired, "just don't hurt yourself thinking about it."
"You need any help, Zoë?" Kaylee asked, and Wash was grateful that Zoë's attention was diverted elsewhere. "I love shoppin', and I never been in a fancy place like that."
Zoë smiled again, softer now, but just as stunning. This time Wash tried to appear as though he was busying himself with the mule's controls.
"I'd love the company Kaylee," she said. "But we're on a timetable if we want to get everything ready by tonight. I'm going to try to go as fast as possible, and you said you needed to pick up that thermalizer. Besides," she added as she cast a scrutinizing look in Wash's direction, "sounds like our pilot could use a bit more help than I do."
Wash emitted an embarrassed chuckle.
Kaylee grinned so wide her shoulders practically wrapped around her ears. "I can't wait to see you both all fancied up!" she said. "What I wouldn't give to get to go to a real glamorous party like that."
Zoë turned to Wash, all-business once again. "Pick me up here on your way back," she said. "And don't be long; we're on the clock."
"Gotcha," he replied as he felt Kaylee slide onto the mule's seat behind him. They began driving through the city again, and Zoë was quickly swallowed by the crowd.
* * *
"You know how to tie one of these things?"
Wash craned his head over the drape that served as the changing room door in the most moderately-priced men's formalwear store they could find. His fingers were tangled up in the silky ascot that went with the formal evening clothes he was currently trying on.
"Sorry," Kaylee replied from the worn cushioned bench just outside the dressing area. "Back on Paquin we don't get much occasion for dressy parties. None of my brothers have ever worn anything beyond Sunday trousers for barn dances and such." She absently turned the new thermalizer over and over in her fingers as she spoke. "Thought you said you'd gotten dressed up before, Wash," she added curiously.
"I have," Wash replied, ducking his head back behind the curtain. "Last time I actually needed to was at graduation, but in flight school we used to have dances all the time. Socials, we called them - always formal. But I never had to wear anything like this." He shook the offending piece of silk in his fist. "Excuse me!" he called to the proprietor, sticking his head back out again. "You wouldn't happen to have a more traditional neckpiece to go with this, would you? Something actually shaped like a bow?"
"That's as traditional as they come around here, son," the man answered from behind the front counter. "Unless you want something with clips - and those only come tyke-sized."
"Does it maybe come with instructions?" Wash asked, only half-kidding.
The man gruffly left his post and walked over to the corner that served as the fitting area. "You decent?" he asked as he reached the curtain.
"Except for the unsightly mess I seem to have made around my throat region," Wash answered. The man tossed the curtain aside and stepped in.
"Been a while since I've worn anything so stiff," Wash commented offhandedly to Kaylee as the shop owner adjusted the ascot beneath the highly starched collar. "There's a reason most pilots prefer those baggy flight suits: I'd get a cramp if I had to hold myself this straight for hours. Some of the guys I graduated with took jobs piloting those high-class core planet transports. They have to wear formal uniforms every shift. I definitely feel for them."
"Not sure if I'll even recognize you, what with how spiffy you're gonna look!" Kaylee replied.
"There," the proprietor said as he finished. He tossed the curtain aside again and stepped out. Wash followed and headed for the mirror. As he caught sight of Kaylee's reflection behind him, he swore her beaming smile could have nearly blinded him.
"Shiny! You look real handsome, Wash," she gushed. "I had no idea you cleaned up so good."
"You two lookin' to get hitched quick?" the proprietor called from behind the counter once more. "I got a shepherd in the family: my oldest brother. I might be convinced to knock a couple credits off the bill if you see him about the ceremony."
Wash actually spared a moment to consider how he might get the discount without actually going to see the shepherd. (He was a lying, thieving smuggler now, right?) Kaylee, however, piped up immediately. "Oh, Wash and me aren't together," she said, giggling.
Wash looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "You don't have to sound like it's that funny of a notion," he grumbled teasingly. He turned back to the mirror, examining the ascot and trying to determine a method of recreating it later.
Kaylee shrugged and sauntered up to him from behind. "S'nothing personal, Wash," she said. "You're a plum catch, and if things were different I'd be crazy not to snatch you right up. It's just that anyone with two good eyes and half a brain can see that you're sweet on Zoë."
Wash froze, staring into the eyes of her reflection in the mirror. She didn't seem the least bit fazed by his gobsmacked expression. He tried to think of a clever retort, but due to the fact that his brain had been rendered useless, all he could manage was, "Huh?"
Kaylee swept her hand through the air, as though brushing aside his weak attempt at denial. "Oh, come on, Wash. It's not like it ain't obvious."
"Is it?" Wash chuckled when he finally found his voice. "And here I thought I was acting all manly and aloof." He gave the front of the jacket a sharp tug to smooth out the lines and straightened proudly, as though he was about to face a firing squad. "Who else knows?"
Kaylee smiled. "It may have come up once or twice 'tween me and Inara," she answered innocently, but with a hint of mischief. "And even then it was just speculation . . . 'til now." She glanced down to contemplate the thermalizer in her hands. "And maybe an innocent wager."
Wash's eyebrows went up. "Is that a fact?" he asked.
Kaylee shrugged, still smiling.
"In that case, put me down too: Three platinum for the other side of never. That'll teach you to corrupt the only honest businesswoman on the ship, Kaylee." Considering the matter closed, Wash turned to the side and looked in the mirror to make sure the jacket was lying correctly in the back.
"Come on, Wash," Kaylee coaxed. "You sayin' you ain't sweet on Zoë?"
"I'm saying that if the woman even suspected as much I'd be lucky to come out of it with all my limbs intact," he replied matter-of-factly.
"Pssh," Kaylee laughed, her lips fluttering amusedly. "Zoë ain't the xiongcan shashou you make her out to sound. She's actually real nice. She probably just needs the right guy to sweep her off her feet. An evening of dancing could be the perfect opportunity." She nudged Wash from behind with her shoulder and a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. Then her face sobered suddenly. "Do you know how to dance?"
"Oh, sure," Wash answered casually. "With steps and everything. I'm just not so sure my idea of dancing would be the kind that's usually done at those high-class parties."
"Mine neither," Kaylee replied regretfully. "I sure wouldn't mind learning, though. I'd love to be able to fit in at a party like that. Even just once."
"It can't be that hard," Wash assured her. "Just a bunch of slow rhythmic posing to show off the fancy costumes. I'm sure you'd catch on pretty quick. I'm hoping I will." He took one last glance at himself, then turned to the proprietor. "I guess I'll take it."
The man nodded and pulled a large box from beneath the counter.
Kaylee reached over and pinched Wash in the arm.
"Ow!" he exclaimed. "Watch it! This probably wrinkles!"
"Don't think I didn't notice you changing the subject either!" Kaylee argued back good-naturedly as Wash slid his arms out of the jacket sleeves.
"And what subject was that?"
Kaylee rolled her eyes. "You? Zoë? A glamorous, romantic evening - just like the ones Inara has all the time?"
"Except with more smuggling negotiations, and less sex."
"Not if you play your cards right, flyboy." Kaylee winked conspiratorially.
Wash looked at her for a moment, then patted her head affectionately. "Oh, to be so innocent again."
"You just have to get her attention, is all," Kaylee insisted. "Seein' you all gussied up and out of your element could do the trick. Or maybe you could try shaving off that dong gua mustache."
Wash's eyes widened. "What? Shave my what?"
"I'm just sayin'," Kaylee said. "Sometimes just that little push-"
"Yeah, but my moustache?" he said with a bit of a childish whine, stroking his fingers over it protectively. "Everybody had one in flight school. It's a tradition! A rite of passage! An art form, even." He paused and sobered. "You think Zoë doesn't like my moustache?"
"Didn't say that," Kaylee replied reassuringly. "Just giving a suggestion is all; something to make her look twice." She smiled brightly and Wash gave a light chuckle.
"I don't know," he said. "Manly and aloof seemed to be working so well." He began to remove the ascot, then paused, looking over at the shop's proprietor. "Is there any way to get this off without untying it?"
* * *
Wash did a last minute check in the cloudy mirror hanging above the sink in his quarters. He still wasn't quite sure he'd gotten the hang of the neckpiece, but at least this time it didn't look as though a four-year-old - or Jayne - had tied it. Deciding it was probably as good as it was going to get, he tacked it in place with a small, round pin and stepped back from the mirror. He smoothed his hands down the front of the jacket, then took the ladder out of his bunk.
Wash had purposely gotten ready early. He had hoped to be the first to arrive in the cargo bay so he could duck right into Shuttle II to prep the ignition sequence. That way he could keep well out of sight and avoid making a spectacle of himself. He should have realized that expecting Zoë to be anything besides early, herself, was overly optimistic. Thinking the woman might be fashionably late was probably bordering on out-and-out lunacy. What Wash hadn't expected was to have a waiting audience the moment he emerged from the fore passageway stairwell.
Five sets of eyes turned to meet his as Wash stepped onto the cargo bay catwalk.
Kaylee gasped in delight while Jayne snickered loutishly. Mal only spared him a momentary glance, as though he was simply keeping a mental tally of what still needed to be done prior to the job. Inara was smiling warmly. However, for the life of him, and totally against his better judgment, Wash couldn't prevent his eyes from fixing immediately upon Zoë.
Her manner was business-as-usual. When Wash had entered, Zoë looked as though she had been going over preparations with Mal, thoroughly absorbing the captain's orders for how to approach Thornton that evening. However, there was nothing standard about the way she looked.
Zoë was breathtaking - it was the only way Wash could even begin to describe it. She was wearing a very simple solid black gown - floor-length, and not nearly as opulent as the ones Wash had become so accustomed to seeing on Inara, but, on Zoë, it was every bit as stunning. What it lacked in ornamentation, the dress certainly made up for in how it draped over Zoë's figure: the V at her neck was just low enough to be teasingly modest; the basic black sash at the waist wrapped flatteringly around her middle, lying just above her hips with its long ends trailing behind; and in the front was a slightly more provocative slit - one that reached almost to the thigh and exposed a fair bit of those magnificent legs that Wash had always admired.
God! The woman knew how to wear slink.
Wash was absolutely entranced and, for once, he didn't care if she caught him staring. If a sight like that was to be the last thing he'd ever see, then Wash could die a happy man.
After a few moments, he became vaguely aware of Zoë's eyes on him. She had stopped working when he entered, and was looking back at him with an odd combination of curiosity and surprise. She blinked, her eyes a little wider than normal. "You shaved."
That finally snapped Wash out of his hypnotized stupor. He averted his eyes and his hand immediately reached for his bare, too-smooth upper lip. He ran his fingers over it for what was probably the millionth time in the last half hour. It had a decidedly foreign feel; Wash wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it. "Yeah," he chuckled self-consciously. "Guess it seemed like the thing to do."
His eyes briefly caught sight of Kaylee's face. She was smiling meaningfully in his direction. "I think you look shiny, Wash," she said.
Wash's hand lingered on his upper lip for another moment. "Definitely feels shinier," he replied. He let his hand drop and tilted his head as though exhibiting his new look. "Is it gleaming? Do I gleam?"
Jayne snorted gruffly. "Little facial scruff makes the man," he said, rubbing his own chin. "Less'n a fella likes lookin' like a yuán kid."
Mal shook his head. "Not sure if anyone attending this particular fandango is gonna be measuring their wealth in whiskers, Jayne."
"It can be a symbol of nobility in some circles," Inara offered.
"Which is exactly what we don't want," Mal replied. "No, Wash had the right idea: he and Zoë are going to want to stand out as little as possible. Thornton may have invited us, but we don't want others at that party speculating as to the potential lordhood of anyone on this crew. If you're right, Inara, we don't want any reason to make anyone look twice. We get the job; we get paid; we get out." He acknowledged Wash with a nod. "Good thinking."
Wash shrugged as though that had been his intention all along.
Zoë had still not said anything else, but continued to scrutinize him with an odd expression. Wash offered her a small smile, and began to step through the crowd toward the shuttle. "I guess I should get the ignition sequence prepped," he said.
Wash heard the others begin bustling around behind him as he stepped into Shuttle II and headed for the pilot's chair. Before he could sit down, he felt a presence at his back. Someone had followed him inside. Wash turned around to see Mal standing there.
"You're going to be all right with this," the captain said.
Wash immediately realized that it wasn't a question, but he answered it anyway. "Fine," he said. "All in a day's work, right?"
Mal smirked, looking more good-natured than he had the day before. "Don't worry about the negotiations. Zoë can handle that," he said. "You're just there to make our girl look respectable. And you will." Mal offered him a nod of reassurance. "I know I bluster," he said, "but only because the coin we get from this job is so important."
"I understand that, captain," Wash replied. "I was only-"
"Looking out for the best interest of this ship," Mal concluded. "Which, truth be told, is exactly what I pay you for. But understand, I'm doing the same. Any good job is worth at least a little risk and, at the end of the day, it turns out you really are the best man for this one."
Wash smiled with a shrug. "Not to mention the only man," he said. "Unless you change your mind about sending Jayne sometime within the next ten minutes."
"I do that, he probably wouldn't make it back alive." Mal broke off, looking wistful for a brief moment, then shook his head. "No, the fewer complications on this job, the better. We'll have to save that for another time."
Wash grinned and turned toward the controls to log in the ignition sequence. "Just a thought."
"It'll all be fine," Mal assured him again as he walked toward the shuttle's hatch. "You both just work together. Watch her back. Zoë'll watch yours - trust me."
To be continued . . .
* * * * * * * * * * *
Mandarin translations:
wo de ma he ta de fengkuang de waisheng dou - Holy mother of God and all her wacky nephews
laotian fu - oh, Lord / oh, God
xiongcan shashou - ass-kicking killer
dong gua - fuzzy (literally 'a white fuzzy vegetable')
yuán - young ('locust without wings')
* * * * * * * * * * *
Author: sharelle
Rating: PG-13
Setting: Pre-Series (but after the crew as we know it has all come together - minus Book, Simon and River)
Pairing(s): Wash/Zoë (with occasional friendship-y moments among others)
Written for: thegranddewru
Thank you: To ninamonkey for the terrific beta. And to edgechick816 for organizing the ficathon.
Previous installments: Part 1
Summary: The crew of Serenity is offered a very lucrative job by a wealthy aristocrat. But when Mal is prevented from accompanying Zoë to the negotiations, there's only one man suitable for the job.
Begin the Beguine
by Sharelle
Chapter 2 - Movement the Second
Wash didn't see much of Zoë until they reached their destination. However, if the truth be known, he was probably avoiding her just as much as she was avoiding him. Initially, Wash thought he had been doing the right thing by warning Mal about the potential problems this job would cause; now he wasn't so sure. If he'd just kept his big mouth shut, by the night's end they might have all been enjoying the comforts of one of the finer New Xianian jail cells, enjoying three squares a day and the paranoid merriment of the group shower. In comparison, all that sounded pretty damn shiny.
The wrench he'd inadvertently thrown into the original plan had instead managed to irritate both the captain and the first mate. It had also earned Wash a role in the very job he had hoped to avoid in the first place. He thought it best to stay out of Zoë's way for as long as possible if he didn't want a black eye to match. It wouldn't do to show up mangled at a fancy party, after all.
At least there were a few people onboard who were unquestionably happy to reach their destination. Inara, for one, was able to dip into a lucrative client base on New Xian which, while not a core planet, offered a substantially higher-class clientele than the places they'd visited lately. She even went out of her way to express her gratitude to Wash - especially after learning what had transpired in the galley on the morning prior. Ever the ambassador, Inara also made an attempt to smooth over the tension that had developed among some members of the crew: she offered to replace Zoë as Mal's representative at Thornton's party. Mal adamantly refused.
Kaylee was thrilled to reach the planet, of course. She was always happy to see anywhere new.
And Jayne . . . well, he probably didn't care one way or the other.
By the time Serenity landed on New Xian, it was approximately 11:30 in the morning, local time. They touched down at the Greendorne Docks just outside the capital city of Artemis, and settled in for a layover that would last, at least, until the next morning.
Soon after docking, a small group prepared to disembark and head into the city to pick up some basic supplies, as well as some special items that would be required for the meet-and-greet with Thornton in a few hours. At this point, Wash knew it would be decidedly more difficult to avoid Zoë - especially since the next place he found himself was on the uncomfortably close quarters of the mule, making his way through the bustling city streets with an irritated warrior woman at his back.
Wash slowed the mule as several well-dressed pedestrians funneled casually along the roadway. "So where are we headed first?" he asked as he waited for the path to clear.
"Need to find a spot that will sell a nice dress cheap," Zoë answered. "Don't want to go so fancy that we spend our take before we make it, but can't look so dowdy as to seem out of place."
The fact that the woman could probably make wearing a protein crate look appealing wasn't lost on Wash, though he was smart enough to keep that particular thought to himself. Instead he said, "We could maybe save a little cash if you borrowed something from Inara."
Zoë gave him a lopsided look that Wash swore actually bordered on amusement. "I think they'd be a mite short on me, don't you, pilot?"
Wash was a bit surprised; Zoë didn't seem as irritated as he'd imagined she'd be. He was certainly glad of that, and wondered if a joke or two at this juncture would be pushing it. He shrugged, looking wistful. "Oh, for the wisdom to be up to date on women's fashions."
"Besides," Zoë added, "too much form and not a lot of function."
"Doesn't functionality sort of defeat the purpose of getting all dressed up?"
"We're not just getting gussied up for a night on the town, pilot," Zoë said. "We have a job to do."
"Work, work, work," Wash playfully droned as he jolted the mule back into motion.
"Speakin' of work," a voice called from the rear of the vehicle, "don't forget we need to pick up a thermalizer while we're here." Kaylee sat perched on the rear of the mule, her legs swinging over the side.
"Check," Wash called over his shoulder.
"We got enough for that?" Zoë asked.
"Shouldn't be no problem," Kaylee answered. "Not if you know how to haggle 'em down to what they're really worth. And it's cheaper than buying a whole new glycol channel for the compression coil. Although," she added, "we don't get a new one of those eventually, we'll be overheatin' before too long."
"Seems like a lot of things are hinging on us getting paid for this job," Wash said to Zoë.
"Seems like," she replied.
"Look, Zoë," he began, "I'm sorry if I caused a problem. I honestly thought warning Mal about the warrant was a good thing, but I certainly didn't mean-"
"Don't dwell on it, Washburne," she interrupted. "It's nothing that wouldn't have happened anyway. Even if the captain were going to Thornton's shindig, it stands to reason I'd still have to be there to back him. No real harm done. You just let me handle all the talking, and don't go flashing that caterpillar on your lip to too many of the fancies. We'll do just fine."
"Huh?" Wash asked. The mule swerved a bit as he turned his head reflexively to face her. "Flashing my what now?"
"Stop here," Zoë cut in, ignoring his outburst.
"Wait-what?" Wash persisted.
"Here, pilot, stop the mule."
Wash was pushed toward the vehicle's handles when Zoë's body suddenly pressed hard against his back. She stretched out one of her long legs and applied her foot to the brake, jolting the mule to a stop. Wash was a mite speechless as he felt her unwrap herself from behind him and swing her leg over the seat in a smooth dismount.
"Back seat driver!" he eventually managed.
"Ooh," Kaylee gasped and Wash looked up to see where they had stopped.
There was a small dress shop across the street. It looked fairly modest for a city the size of Artemis, where the ladies seemed to get dressed up just to be seen walking about, but it didn't look completely undistinguished either. It must have been doing a fair business since the proprietor could afford to hire live girls to model in the front windows, rather than the lifeless antique mannequins some of the lower-class places needed to resort to.
Kaylee had slid off the rear of the mule and was staring with starry-eyed longing at the shop. "Oh, Zoë, they're so pretty! You're so lucky: Afternoon of shopping, a fancy party to look forward to . . . " She sighed. "They all look so glamorous, don't they?"
Then Zoë did something that would have caused Wash's head to spin, had it not been for its auspiciously firm attachment to his neck: She looked down at Kaylee and gave the girl the biggest, most radiant smile he had ever seen.
She was every bit as breathtaking as he imagined she'd be - and then some. Her entire face lit up and her eyes practically sparkled in the early afternoon sun. Those gorgeous lips, which Wash was certain had captivated many a red-blooded male, perfectly framed her flawless teeth. And her dimples . . . Wo de ma he ta de fengkuang de waisheng dou, the woman had dimples!
Wash couldn't help but feel some tiny - bordering on gargantuan - twinge of jealousy for the young mechanic and whatever she had done to endear herself to Serenity's first mate.
Well, Kaylee's sweet, a little voice reminded him.
I can be sweet! Wash's brain argued back. Has she not noticed the toy dinosaurs, or my boyish penchant for colorful shirts? Since when have I exuded anything besides sweet?
So many thoughts were racing through his head all at once, that Wash almost didn't notice how wide his eyes had gotten or that his mouth was hanging open so much a local insect colony could have easily taken up residence. He managed to clamp it shut with an audible pop, but continued to stare - probably looking just as captivated as little Kaylee had been of the dress shop windows.
"Laotian fu," he whispered.
"Something about it all being part of the job takes a little of the fun out, I suppose," Zoë answered Kaylee. She then turned to Wash and her wide smile melted into an expression that was equal parts amusement and confusion. "You alright there, Washburne?"
Wash snapped out of it very quickly at that. "Fine," he said abruptly, blinking his dried eyes rapidly. "I just realized I don't have the first clue where to look for the proper attire. Haven't needed to wear anything so formal since graduation from flight school."
"Well," Zoë nodded with a somewhat skeptical tone in her voice, as though his cover story left much to be desired, "just don't hurt yourself thinking about it."
"You need any help, Zoë?" Kaylee asked, and Wash was grateful that Zoë's attention was diverted elsewhere. "I love shoppin', and I never been in a fancy place like that."
Zoë smiled again, softer now, but just as stunning. This time Wash tried to appear as though he was busying himself with the mule's controls.
"I'd love the company Kaylee," she said. "But we're on a timetable if we want to get everything ready by tonight. I'm going to try to go as fast as possible, and you said you needed to pick up that thermalizer. Besides," she added as she cast a scrutinizing look in Wash's direction, "sounds like our pilot could use a bit more help than I do."
Wash emitted an embarrassed chuckle.
Kaylee grinned so wide her shoulders practically wrapped around her ears. "I can't wait to see you both all fancied up!" she said. "What I wouldn't give to get to go to a real glamorous party like that."
Zoë turned to Wash, all-business once again. "Pick me up here on your way back," she said. "And don't be long; we're on the clock."
"Gotcha," he replied as he felt Kaylee slide onto the mule's seat behind him. They began driving through the city again, and Zoë was quickly swallowed by the crowd.
* * *
"You know how to tie one of these things?"
Wash craned his head over the drape that served as the changing room door in the most moderately-priced men's formalwear store they could find. His fingers were tangled up in the silky ascot that went with the formal evening clothes he was currently trying on.
"Sorry," Kaylee replied from the worn cushioned bench just outside the dressing area. "Back on Paquin we don't get much occasion for dressy parties. None of my brothers have ever worn anything beyond Sunday trousers for barn dances and such." She absently turned the new thermalizer over and over in her fingers as she spoke. "Thought you said you'd gotten dressed up before, Wash," she added curiously.
"I have," Wash replied, ducking his head back behind the curtain. "Last time I actually needed to was at graduation, but in flight school we used to have dances all the time. Socials, we called them - always formal. But I never had to wear anything like this." He shook the offending piece of silk in his fist. "Excuse me!" he called to the proprietor, sticking his head back out again. "You wouldn't happen to have a more traditional neckpiece to go with this, would you? Something actually shaped like a bow?"
"That's as traditional as they come around here, son," the man answered from behind the front counter. "Unless you want something with clips - and those only come tyke-sized."
"Does it maybe come with instructions?" Wash asked, only half-kidding.
The man gruffly left his post and walked over to the corner that served as the fitting area. "You decent?" he asked as he reached the curtain.
"Except for the unsightly mess I seem to have made around my throat region," Wash answered. The man tossed the curtain aside and stepped in.
"Been a while since I've worn anything so stiff," Wash commented offhandedly to Kaylee as the shop owner adjusted the ascot beneath the highly starched collar. "There's a reason most pilots prefer those baggy flight suits: I'd get a cramp if I had to hold myself this straight for hours. Some of the guys I graduated with took jobs piloting those high-class core planet transports. They have to wear formal uniforms every shift. I definitely feel for them."
"Not sure if I'll even recognize you, what with how spiffy you're gonna look!" Kaylee replied.
"There," the proprietor said as he finished. He tossed the curtain aside again and stepped out. Wash followed and headed for the mirror. As he caught sight of Kaylee's reflection behind him, he swore her beaming smile could have nearly blinded him.
"Shiny! You look real handsome, Wash," she gushed. "I had no idea you cleaned up so good."
"You two lookin' to get hitched quick?" the proprietor called from behind the counter once more. "I got a shepherd in the family: my oldest brother. I might be convinced to knock a couple credits off the bill if you see him about the ceremony."
Wash actually spared a moment to consider how he might get the discount without actually going to see the shepherd. (He was a lying, thieving smuggler now, right?) Kaylee, however, piped up immediately. "Oh, Wash and me aren't together," she said, giggling.
Wash looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "You don't have to sound like it's that funny of a notion," he grumbled teasingly. He turned back to the mirror, examining the ascot and trying to determine a method of recreating it later.
Kaylee shrugged and sauntered up to him from behind. "S'nothing personal, Wash," she said. "You're a plum catch, and if things were different I'd be crazy not to snatch you right up. It's just that anyone with two good eyes and half a brain can see that you're sweet on Zoë."
Wash froze, staring into the eyes of her reflection in the mirror. She didn't seem the least bit fazed by his gobsmacked expression. He tried to think of a clever retort, but due to the fact that his brain had been rendered useless, all he could manage was, "Huh?"
Kaylee swept her hand through the air, as though brushing aside his weak attempt at denial. "Oh, come on, Wash. It's not like it ain't obvious."
"Is it?" Wash chuckled when he finally found his voice. "And here I thought I was acting all manly and aloof." He gave the front of the jacket a sharp tug to smooth out the lines and straightened proudly, as though he was about to face a firing squad. "Who else knows?"
Kaylee smiled. "It may have come up once or twice 'tween me and Inara," she answered innocently, but with a hint of mischief. "And even then it was just speculation . . . 'til now." She glanced down to contemplate the thermalizer in her hands. "And maybe an innocent wager."
Wash's eyebrows went up. "Is that a fact?" he asked.
Kaylee shrugged, still smiling.
"In that case, put me down too: Three platinum for the other side of never. That'll teach you to corrupt the only honest businesswoman on the ship, Kaylee." Considering the matter closed, Wash turned to the side and looked in the mirror to make sure the jacket was lying correctly in the back.
"Come on, Wash," Kaylee coaxed. "You sayin' you ain't sweet on Zoë?"
"I'm saying that if the woman even suspected as much I'd be lucky to come out of it with all my limbs intact," he replied matter-of-factly.
"Pssh," Kaylee laughed, her lips fluttering amusedly. "Zoë ain't the xiongcan shashou you make her out to sound. She's actually real nice. She probably just needs the right guy to sweep her off her feet. An evening of dancing could be the perfect opportunity." She nudged Wash from behind with her shoulder and a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. Then her face sobered suddenly. "Do you know how to dance?"
"Oh, sure," Wash answered casually. "With steps and everything. I'm just not so sure my idea of dancing would be the kind that's usually done at those high-class parties."
"Mine neither," Kaylee replied regretfully. "I sure wouldn't mind learning, though. I'd love to be able to fit in at a party like that. Even just once."
"It can't be that hard," Wash assured her. "Just a bunch of slow rhythmic posing to show off the fancy costumes. I'm sure you'd catch on pretty quick. I'm hoping I will." He took one last glance at himself, then turned to the proprietor. "I guess I'll take it."
The man nodded and pulled a large box from beneath the counter.
Kaylee reached over and pinched Wash in the arm.
"Ow!" he exclaimed. "Watch it! This probably wrinkles!"
"Don't think I didn't notice you changing the subject either!" Kaylee argued back good-naturedly as Wash slid his arms out of the jacket sleeves.
"And what subject was that?"
Kaylee rolled her eyes. "You? Zoë? A glamorous, romantic evening - just like the ones Inara has all the time?"
"Except with more smuggling negotiations, and less sex."
"Not if you play your cards right, flyboy." Kaylee winked conspiratorially.
Wash looked at her for a moment, then patted her head affectionately. "Oh, to be so innocent again."
"You just have to get her attention, is all," Kaylee insisted. "Seein' you all gussied up and out of your element could do the trick. Or maybe you could try shaving off that dong gua mustache."
Wash's eyes widened. "What? Shave my what?"
"I'm just sayin'," Kaylee said. "Sometimes just that little push-"
"Yeah, but my moustache?" he said with a bit of a childish whine, stroking his fingers over it protectively. "Everybody had one in flight school. It's a tradition! A rite of passage! An art form, even." He paused and sobered. "You think Zoë doesn't like my moustache?"
"Didn't say that," Kaylee replied reassuringly. "Just giving a suggestion is all; something to make her look twice." She smiled brightly and Wash gave a light chuckle.
"I don't know," he said. "Manly and aloof seemed to be working so well." He began to remove the ascot, then paused, looking over at the shop's proprietor. "Is there any way to get this off without untying it?"
* * *
Wash did a last minute check in the cloudy mirror hanging above the sink in his quarters. He still wasn't quite sure he'd gotten the hang of the neckpiece, but at least this time it didn't look as though a four-year-old - or Jayne - had tied it. Deciding it was probably as good as it was going to get, he tacked it in place with a small, round pin and stepped back from the mirror. He smoothed his hands down the front of the jacket, then took the ladder out of his bunk.
Wash had purposely gotten ready early. He had hoped to be the first to arrive in the cargo bay so he could duck right into Shuttle II to prep the ignition sequence. That way he could keep well out of sight and avoid making a spectacle of himself. He should have realized that expecting Zoë to be anything besides early, herself, was overly optimistic. Thinking the woman might be fashionably late was probably bordering on out-and-out lunacy. What Wash hadn't expected was to have a waiting audience the moment he emerged from the fore passageway stairwell.
Five sets of eyes turned to meet his as Wash stepped onto the cargo bay catwalk.
Kaylee gasped in delight while Jayne snickered loutishly. Mal only spared him a momentary glance, as though he was simply keeping a mental tally of what still needed to be done prior to the job. Inara was smiling warmly. However, for the life of him, and totally against his better judgment, Wash couldn't prevent his eyes from fixing immediately upon Zoë.
Her manner was business-as-usual. When Wash had entered, Zoë looked as though she had been going over preparations with Mal, thoroughly absorbing the captain's orders for how to approach Thornton that evening. However, there was nothing standard about the way she looked.
Zoë was breathtaking - it was the only way Wash could even begin to describe it. She was wearing a very simple solid black gown - floor-length, and not nearly as opulent as the ones Wash had become so accustomed to seeing on Inara, but, on Zoë, it was every bit as stunning. What it lacked in ornamentation, the dress certainly made up for in how it draped over Zoë's figure: the V at her neck was just low enough to be teasingly modest; the basic black sash at the waist wrapped flatteringly around her middle, lying just above her hips with its long ends trailing behind; and in the front was a slightly more provocative slit - one that reached almost to the thigh and exposed a fair bit of those magnificent legs that Wash had always admired.
God! The woman knew how to wear slink.
Wash was absolutely entranced and, for once, he didn't care if she caught him staring. If a sight like that was to be the last thing he'd ever see, then Wash could die a happy man.
After a few moments, he became vaguely aware of Zoë's eyes on him. She had stopped working when he entered, and was looking back at him with an odd combination of curiosity and surprise. She blinked, her eyes a little wider than normal. "You shaved."
That finally snapped Wash out of his hypnotized stupor. He averted his eyes and his hand immediately reached for his bare, too-smooth upper lip. He ran his fingers over it for what was probably the millionth time in the last half hour. It had a decidedly foreign feel; Wash wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it. "Yeah," he chuckled self-consciously. "Guess it seemed like the thing to do."
His eyes briefly caught sight of Kaylee's face. She was smiling meaningfully in his direction. "I think you look shiny, Wash," she said.
Wash's hand lingered on his upper lip for another moment. "Definitely feels shinier," he replied. He let his hand drop and tilted his head as though exhibiting his new look. "Is it gleaming? Do I gleam?"
Jayne snorted gruffly. "Little facial scruff makes the man," he said, rubbing his own chin. "Less'n a fella likes lookin' like a yuán kid."
Mal shook his head. "Not sure if anyone attending this particular fandango is gonna be measuring their wealth in whiskers, Jayne."
"It can be a symbol of nobility in some circles," Inara offered.
"Which is exactly what we don't want," Mal replied. "No, Wash had the right idea: he and Zoë are going to want to stand out as little as possible. Thornton may have invited us, but we don't want others at that party speculating as to the potential lordhood of anyone on this crew. If you're right, Inara, we don't want any reason to make anyone look twice. We get the job; we get paid; we get out." He acknowledged Wash with a nod. "Good thinking."
Wash shrugged as though that had been his intention all along.
Zoë had still not said anything else, but continued to scrutinize him with an odd expression. Wash offered her a small smile, and began to step through the crowd toward the shuttle. "I guess I should get the ignition sequence prepped," he said.
Wash heard the others begin bustling around behind him as he stepped into Shuttle II and headed for the pilot's chair. Before he could sit down, he felt a presence at his back. Someone had followed him inside. Wash turned around to see Mal standing there.
"You're going to be all right with this," the captain said.
Wash immediately realized that it wasn't a question, but he answered it anyway. "Fine," he said. "All in a day's work, right?"
Mal smirked, looking more good-natured than he had the day before. "Don't worry about the negotiations. Zoë can handle that," he said. "You're just there to make our girl look respectable. And you will." Mal offered him a nod of reassurance. "I know I bluster," he said, "but only because the coin we get from this job is so important."
"I understand that, captain," Wash replied. "I was only-"
"Looking out for the best interest of this ship," Mal concluded. "Which, truth be told, is exactly what I pay you for. But understand, I'm doing the same. Any good job is worth at least a little risk and, at the end of the day, it turns out you really are the best man for this one."
Wash smiled with a shrug. "Not to mention the only man," he said. "Unless you change your mind about sending Jayne sometime within the next ten minutes."
"I do that, he probably wouldn't make it back alive." Mal broke off, looking wistful for a brief moment, then shook his head. "No, the fewer complications on this job, the better. We'll have to save that for another time."
Wash grinned and turned toward the controls to log in the ignition sequence. "Just a thought."
"It'll all be fine," Mal assured him again as he walked toward the shuttle's hatch. "You both just work together. Watch her back. Zoë'll watch yours - trust me."
To be continued . . .
* * * * * * * * * * *
Mandarin translations:
wo de ma he ta de fengkuang de waisheng dou - Holy mother of God and all her wacky nephews
laotian fu - oh, Lord / oh, God
xiongcan shashou - ass-kicking killer
dong gua - fuzzy (literally 'a white fuzzy vegetable')
yuán - young ('locust without wings')
* * * * * * * * * * *