Firefly Fic: Turnabout is Fair Play - Ch.3/?
Title: Turnabout is Fair Play
Chapter: 3 / ?
Author: caffeinified
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Characters/Pairing: Crew, Mal/Inara (eventually)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Firefly. It's just for fun.
Summary: A few years post Serenity the movie. Totally AU and made up from there.
Previous Chapters: 1| 2
Each and every one of her contacts had run dry; all except one. The name she had spent a lifetime building up meant next to nothing anymore as far as most of the verse was concerned. A small favor might have been a different story, but infiltrating the Alliance was far too much to ask anyone, it seemed. Inara had never felt so useless as she did in that moment. Words that she had heard whispered behind her back and murmured in the dark wafted through her mind; nothing but a glorified whore, not that she would ever admit to feeling such aloud. She had all of the training and was capable of the fine-tuned refinement of a Companion, but no credentials, title or name to speak of anymore.
Being exclusive to Mal had brought upon the both of them beauty and heartache, unspeakable happiness and hardship. Over time Inara had lost some of her perfectionism no matter how much she attempted to cling to it. Mal had taught her how to shoot a gun and ride a horse without a side-saddle. Sometimes a nail was broken or a curl was out of place. In some ways she was rougher around the edges and in other ways she was every bit the same. But in all ways she wouldn’t change a thing.
Mal had given her things she hadn’t realized that she didn’t possess until she had met him. He gave her a spark that she couldn’t find with anyone else. He gave her a home that went far beyond just a place to sleep at night. He gave her a freedom that could rightfully mock the life that she had once thought to be free. He gave her love and hate, happiness and an infuriating anger that all melted into what passed for a relationship between them. Inara needed Mal in a way that she had never wanted to need anyone. And now when he needed her, the price paid for their relationship was staring straight at her and laughing ironically in her face.
She stared back at her list of dried up contacts as if something new would pop out at her, a different solution than the only option she had left. The names remained the same, unchanging. Among those names, the only one she had yet to call stood out starkly among the rest: Atherton Wing.
It took her a half hour to make herself look perfect. Maybe she wasn’t used to the necessity of perfection anymore but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t capable of it. When she returned to the Cortex there wasn’t a hair out of place. Her make-up was darker than normal, causing her skin to look flawless and porcelain. She wore a gown of red satin that fell loosely off of one shoulder, one of her finest dresses that she hadn’t worn in some time.
One index finger touched the screen over a name she loathed and she noted how she shook as she folded her hands in her lap and waited. She used the space of time to compose herself, expertly forcing an outward calm that she didn’t feel inside.
“Atherton.” She greeted when his face appeared on the screen. He looked confident and smug, so smug that she wanted to lash out in the most uncivilized of fashions. The thought was a momentary amusement that reminded her just how much Mal had rubbed off on her over the years.
“Hello bao bei. I was wondering how long it would take for you to call.” Atherton grinned, quite pleased with this turn of events. Of course, he had hoped but he hadn’t thought that she would actually take the bait. “You’re looking lovely… pretty as a flower.”
Inara nodded slightly, keeping her voice calm and smooth. “You’re looking well also. I think we both know why I’ve contacted you.”
“Yes.” Atherton leaned forward, closely inspecting Inara’s image on his screen. “While my reputation may not be what it once was, I do believe that yours amounts to nothing at all anymore. I always get what I want eventually Inara, even when it takes longer than anticipated. And I’ve been most patient while that hwun dan dried you up, don’t you think?”
Sitting with her back ram-rod straight, Inara dipped her head in response to Atherton. There was nothing she could say to that that wouldn’t anger him. For the moment, giving him what he wanted was wise and what he wanted was submission. She could give him that until she got what she wanted.
It served to please him and please him it did. Atherton knew it was an act but he grinned at her demeanor anyway. “I know where they’re taking your Captain. And my father is very good friends with some high-ranking Alliance officers. You will come to me.”
“After Captain Reynolds is freed.” Inara said, slowly lifting her gaze back up to Atherton.
He laughed and shook his head. “No, no, no Inara. I’m afraid not. I get what I want first. That is the only way that this will work. Come to Bellerophon. By my estimation you should be close enough to get here in that horrid shuttle you live in. You will contact me when you arrive.”
Before she could argue, Atherton continued. “I look forward to seeing you sooner rather than later, Bao Bei.”
The video ended and Inara was left with a blank screen with only her reflection in it to stare at. Strange, that as much as she had made herself presentable that she still didn’t like what she saw. Somewhere along the way Mal had convinced her that she was more beautiful with her hair wild and cascading around shoulders, less make-up and wearing one of his shirts. She didn’t know when she had started to believe him. She only knew that at some point her perception of the definition of beauty had changed… or perhaps it had broadened.
She swallowed hard over a throat that was too dry and looked down to the control panel for the shuttle. Once she left there would be no turning back. Zoe and Jayne’s idea of charge and attack would only lead to everyone’s death, including Mal’s and she couldn’t be a part of that. Her movements were almost robotic as she went through the familiar sequence to detach the shuttle from the rest of her home. Mal knew how to be terrified on the inside and show no fear externally. Inara could try her hand at doing the same. She owed that much to him. And more than that, he deserved that much from her.
**
Mal had been sitting on the floor half asleep when officers had come to retrieve him from his cell. He was escorted to a cruiser where he was locked in the back and transported inland to the large prison. From the window of the cab he could see the enormous structure growing closer and closer. It was clean gray with pristine white lines and dark bars on the windows. They were admitted into the first check point and then beyond the second. At the front of the building, he was hauled out of the cab and led inside.
He looked up and around the interior as one of the officers checked him in. Each time his name was said and each time someone realized who he was, the whispers began and he was cast looks of both wonder and hatred. He took note of each one, gauging which cards he could possibly play with which face.
“I see Alliance’s put a pretty penny into makin’ glamorous prisons. Compared to the last one I was in, this one’s right shiny.” He couldn’t help commenting. He leaned over to one of the guards. “What time’s the maid come ‘round again?”
The chuckling he heard didn’t come from any of the men around him, but from some open double doors where a man in full Alliance uniform and medallion stood. He was an older man, salt and pepper hair visible beneath his hat and glasses that rested low on his nose. The man almost looked too kindly to be a high-ranking official in the Alliance. “Captain Reynolds, welcome to Ariel. I must say, you’re as amusing as I’ve heard, but not as amusing as you think you are.”
“Matter of opinion.” Mal answered, lifting his shoulders in a shrug and automatically testing the cuffs that bound his wrists at his back again.
“You’ll find that in this place, what I say is fact. What I do is law. And what I want, I get without question.”
“Conjure that makes you more spoiled than anything.” Looking down, Mal glanced over the medals that lined the breast of the man’s coat. “Nice uh… ornaments.”
“Medals.” The older man corrected, not the least bit bothered by the slight to the commendations he had received over years of service. “I’m Admiral Case Whetherford… the man whom you will either learn to respect or alternatively pay a heavy price.”
Mal smirked lightly. “Respect is earned, Mr. Whetherford.”
“Admiral Whetherford.” Case clasped his hand behind him and stepped closer to study the gash on Mal’s cheek. “This is infected. We’ll clean that up for you.” He rocked back on his heels and forward again. “Now, your stay with us can go one of two ways. You’re always in control of which way it goes. You will either be punished severely for your temperament or you will live a peaceful life as an inmate. It may surprise you, but some find it most pleasant here, Captain Reynolds.”
“Yeah…” Mal rolled his eyes up to the ceiling dramatically and licked his lips. “M’sure it’s a real pleasure cruise… Admiral. Real resort-like, fun and games, three meals a day, plenty of-”
“Captain… don’t mock this.” The Admiral tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “Let me make something perfectly clear. You aren’t amusing here. You are not starting out the same as any normal prisoner would. You’re beneath the other prisoners here because you killed Alliance officers. You’ve been a thorn in our side for years. Many think of you as invulnerable. But I intend to show them just how vulnerable you are. It’s up to you to dig your way out of the punishment you’re going to receive. Before I’m done, you will grovel on your knees to me and pledge you loyalty to the Alliance. Any questions?”
The words caused his stomach to roll over inside of him. Mal had known that this would be no walk in the park. But he knew he would die before he pledged loyalty to Alliance rule. “Yeah… is that legal? The me startin’ out lower than everyone else part. Ain’t quite sure where that kind of treatment fits in to the squeaky clean ideals of Alliance law.”
“Malcolm… you don’t mind if I call you that, do you? I mean we will be spending copious amounts of time together.” Case leaned forward, the older gentleman’s sweet demeanor twisting and contorting into something maniacal and so very wrong. “Malcolm, you’re special. You’re different. And I’m going to make sure that you get my very special treatment.”
The Admiral nodded to the group of guards that had walked into the entryway with him. “Take him to the dungeon.”
Mal was pushed from behind and stepped forward, walking where he was guided through the hallways. He had nothing to say to the Admiral. In fact, the Admiral suddenly seemed like a pretty scary individual that he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross. But at the same time, he didn’t want to succumb to him either. And he was pretty sure that the dungeon wasn’t a happy place.
They traveled down a lift to what looked like the bottom floor of the building to him. But then the lift went even lower than what was listed on the wall of the lift by the door. When the doors finally opened, Mal was guided out into what looked like a steal and concrete hallway. The corridor was narrow, almost forcing a certain amount of claustrophobia until the corridor opened into a large circular room with several glass doors. Through two of the doors he could see bruised and battered individuals that looked seemingly unconscious. One was hanging from the ceiling and the other shackled to the floor.
“Don’t this look like fun…” He murmured under his breath as he was led into one of the rooms through a sliding glass door. Along the back wall there were all manner of torture devices. Some he could identify and some he wasn’t quite sure what they were, he just knew that they didn’t look promising. Surviving this would be as mentally challenging as it was physically.
Mal didn’t fight as the cuffs were removed and his arms were lifted above his head to be clasped into new metal cuffs that hung from the ceiling. By his count there were six guards in the room with him and two more in the larger round room. There was no way he could fight them all and that put Mal at an impasse. He didn’t want to go through whatever he was about to experience and at the same time he didn’t want to die. He wanted to get out of this place, but he didn’t know how yet. He had to bide his time until there was a crack he could squeeze through.
His shirt was cut off of him in pieces and his boots and socks were removed. He forced a smirk and shrugged. “Not one of my favorite shirts anyway.”
One of the guards laughed at that and backed up towards the glass door. “The Admiral will be in to see you in a few hours.” He pointed to a corner of the ceiling. “We’ll all be able to watch, Captain Reynolds. And we’re all looking forward to it. Who knows, maybe we’ll broadcast it across the Universe.”
Mal looked up to the camera that hung in the corner of the ceiling and then back down to the guard. “Wouldn’t do so well for the Alliance’s image, now would it? Showin’ everybody what you’re doin’ down here… Who’s the men in those other rooms? Guessin’ they’re not particularly friends of the almighty Alliance either?”
“Let’s just say that they’ve only been here for two weeks and we aren’t nearly as irritated with them as we are with you.” The guard grinned and backed out of the room after the rest of the guards had filed out. “Like the Admiral said, you’re special.” The glass doors slid closed leaving Mal alone with his own thoughts, which at this point were a torture in and of themselves.
Chapter: 3 / ?
Author: caffeinified
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Characters/Pairing: Crew, Mal/Inara (eventually)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Firefly. It's just for fun.
Summary: A few years post Serenity the movie. Totally AU and made up from there.
Previous Chapters: 1| 2
Each and every one of her contacts had run dry; all except one. The name she had spent a lifetime building up meant next to nothing anymore as far as most of the verse was concerned. A small favor might have been a different story, but infiltrating the Alliance was far too much to ask anyone, it seemed. Inara had never felt so useless as she did in that moment. Words that she had heard whispered behind her back and murmured in the dark wafted through her mind; nothing but a glorified whore, not that she would ever admit to feeling such aloud. She had all of the training and was capable of the fine-tuned refinement of a Companion, but no credentials, title or name to speak of anymore.
Being exclusive to Mal had brought upon the both of them beauty and heartache, unspeakable happiness and hardship. Over time Inara had lost some of her perfectionism no matter how much she attempted to cling to it. Mal had taught her how to shoot a gun and ride a horse without a side-saddle. Sometimes a nail was broken or a curl was out of place. In some ways she was rougher around the edges and in other ways she was every bit the same. But in all ways she wouldn’t change a thing.
Mal had given her things she hadn’t realized that she didn’t possess until she had met him. He gave her a spark that she couldn’t find with anyone else. He gave her a home that went far beyond just a place to sleep at night. He gave her a freedom that could rightfully mock the life that she had once thought to be free. He gave her love and hate, happiness and an infuriating anger that all melted into what passed for a relationship between them. Inara needed Mal in a way that she had never wanted to need anyone. And now when he needed her, the price paid for their relationship was staring straight at her and laughing ironically in her face.
She stared back at her list of dried up contacts as if something new would pop out at her, a different solution than the only option she had left. The names remained the same, unchanging. Among those names, the only one she had yet to call stood out starkly among the rest: Atherton Wing.
It took her a half hour to make herself look perfect. Maybe she wasn’t used to the necessity of perfection anymore but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t capable of it. When she returned to the Cortex there wasn’t a hair out of place. Her make-up was darker than normal, causing her skin to look flawless and porcelain. She wore a gown of red satin that fell loosely off of one shoulder, one of her finest dresses that she hadn’t worn in some time.
One index finger touched the screen over a name she loathed and she noted how she shook as she folded her hands in her lap and waited. She used the space of time to compose herself, expertly forcing an outward calm that she didn’t feel inside.
“Atherton.” She greeted when his face appeared on the screen. He looked confident and smug, so smug that she wanted to lash out in the most uncivilized of fashions. The thought was a momentary amusement that reminded her just how much Mal had rubbed off on her over the years.
“Hello bao bei. I was wondering how long it would take for you to call.” Atherton grinned, quite pleased with this turn of events. Of course, he had hoped but he hadn’t thought that she would actually take the bait. “You’re looking lovely… pretty as a flower.”
Inara nodded slightly, keeping her voice calm and smooth. “You’re looking well also. I think we both know why I’ve contacted you.”
“Yes.” Atherton leaned forward, closely inspecting Inara’s image on his screen. “While my reputation may not be what it once was, I do believe that yours amounts to nothing at all anymore. I always get what I want eventually Inara, even when it takes longer than anticipated. And I’ve been most patient while that hwun dan dried you up, don’t you think?”
Sitting with her back ram-rod straight, Inara dipped her head in response to Atherton. There was nothing she could say to that that wouldn’t anger him. For the moment, giving him what he wanted was wise and what he wanted was submission. She could give him that until she got what she wanted.
It served to please him and please him it did. Atherton knew it was an act but he grinned at her demeanor anyway. “I know where they’re taking your Captain. And my father is very good friends with some high-ranking Alliance officers. You will come to me.”
“After Captain Reynolds is freed.” Inara said, slowly lifting her gaze back up to Atherton.
He laughed and shook his head. “No, no, no Inara. I’m afraid not. I get what I want first. That is the only way that this will work. Come to Bellerophon. By my estimation you should be close enough to get here in that horrid shuttle you live in. You will contact me when you arrive.”
Before she could argue, Atherton continued. “I look forward to seeing you sooner rather than later, Bao Bei.”
The video ended and Inara was left with a blank screen with only her reflection in it to stare at. Strange, that as much as she had made herself presentable that she still didn’t like what she saw. Somewhere along the way Mal had convinced her that she was more beautiful with her hair wild and cascading around shoulders, less make-up and wearing one of his shirts. She didn’t know when she had started to believe him. She only knew that at some point her perception of the definition of beauty had changed… or perhaps it had broadened.
She swallowed hard over a throat that was too dry and looked down to the control panel for the shuttle. Once she left there would be no turning back. Zoe and Jayne’s idea of charge and attack would only lead to everyone’s death, including Mal’s and she couldn’t be a part of that. Her movements were almost robotic as she went through the familiar sequence to detach the shuttle from the rest of her home. Mal knew how to be terrified on the inside and show no fear externally. Inara could try her hand at doing the same. She owed that much to him. And more than that, he deserved that much from her.
**
Mal had been sitting on the floor half asleep when officers had come to retrieve him from his cell. He was escorted to a cruiser where he was locked in the back and transported inland to the large prison. From the window of the cab he could see the enormous structure growing closer and closer. It was clean gray with pristine white lines and dark bars on the windows. They were admitted into the first check point and then beyond the second. At the front of the building, he was hauled out of the cab and led inside.
He looked up and around the interior as one of the officers checked him in. Each time his name was said and each time someone realized who he was, the whispers began and he was cast looks of both wonder and hatred. He took note of each one, gauging which cards he could possibly play with which face.
“I see Alliance’s put a pretty penny into makin’ glamorous prisons. Compared to the last one I was in, this one’s right shiny.” He couldn’t help commenting. He leaned over to one of the guards. “What time’s the maid come ‘round again?”
The chuckling he heard didn’t come from any of the men around him, but from some open double doors where a man in full Alliance uniform and medallion stood. He was an older man, salt and pepper hair visible beneath his hat and glasses that rested low on his nose. The man almost looked too kindly to be a high-ranking official in the Alliance. “Captain Reynolds, welcome to Ariel. I must say, you’re as amusing as I’ve heard, but not as amusing as you think you are.”
“Matter of opinion.” Mal answered, lifting his shoulders in a shrug and automatically testing the cuffs that bound his wrists at his back again.
“You’ll find that in this place, what I say is fact. What I do is law. And what I want, I get without question.”
“Conjure that makes you more spoiled than anything.” Looking down, Mal glanced over the medals that lined the breast of the man’s coat. “Nice uh… ornaments.”
“Medals.” The older man corrected, not the least bit bothered by the slight to the commendations he had received over years of service. “I’m Admiral Case Whetherford… the man whom you will either learn to respect or alternatively pay a heavy price.”
Mal smirked lightly. “Respect is earned, Mr. Whetherford.”
“Admiral Whetherford.” Case clasped his hand behind him and stepped closer to study the gash on Mal’s cheek. “This is infected. We’ll clean that up for you.” He rocked back on his heels and forward again. “Now, your stay with us can go one of two ways. You’re always in control of which way it goes. You will either be punished severely for your temperament or you will live a peaceful life as an inmate. It may surprise you, but some find it most pleasant here, Captain Reynolds.”
“Yeah…” Mal rolled his eyes up to the ceiling dramatically and licked his lips. “M’sure it’s a real pleasure cruise… Admiral. Real resort-like, fun and games, three meals a day, plenty of-”
“Captain… don’t mock this.” The Admiral tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. “Let me make something perfectly clear. You aren’t amusing here. You are not starting out the same as any normal prisoner would. You’re beneath the other prisoners here because you killed Alliance officers. You’ve been a thorn in our side for years. Many think of you as invulnerable. But I intend to show them just how vulnerable you are. It’s up to you to dig your way out of the punishment you’re going to receive. Before I’m done, you will grovel on your knees to me and pledge you loyalty to the Alliance. Any questions?”
The words caused his stomach to roll over inside of him. Mal had known that this would be no walk in the park. But he knew he would die before he pledged loyalty to Alliance rule. “Yeah… is that legal? The me startin’ out lower than everyone else part. Ain’t quite sure where that kind of treatment fits in to the squeaky clean ideals of Alliance law.”
“Malcolm… you don’t mind if I call you that, do you? I mean we will be spending copious amounts of time together.” Case leaned forward, the older gentleman’s sweet demeanor twisting and contorting into something maniacal and so very wrong. “Malcolm, you’re special. You’re different. And I’m going to make sure that you get my very special treatment.”
The Admiral nodded to the group of guards that had walked into the entryway with him. “Take him to the dungeon.”
Mal was pushed from behind and stepped forward, walking where he was guided through the hallways. He had nothing to say to the Admiral. In fact, the Admiral suddenly seemed like a pretty scary individual that he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross. But at the same time, he didn’t want to succumb to him either. And he was pretty sure that the dungeon wasn’t a happy place.
They traveled down a lift to what looked like the bottom floor of the building to him. But then the lift went even lower than what was listed on the wall of the lift by the door. When the doors finally opened, Mal was guided out into what looked like a steal and concrete hallway. The corridor was narrow, almost forcing a certain amount of claustrophobia until the corridor opened into a large circular room with several glass doors. Through two of the doors he could see bruised and battered individuals that looked seemingly unconscious. One was hanging from the ceiling and the other shackled to the floor.
“Don’t this look like fun…” He murmured under his breath as he was led into one of the rooms through a sliding glass door. Along the back wall there were all manner of torture devices. Some he could identify and some he wasn’t quite sure what they were, he just knew that they didn’t look promising. Surviving this would be as mentally challenging as it was physically.
Mal didn’t fight as the cuffs were removed and his arms were lifted above his head to be clasped into new metal cuffs that hung from the ceiling. By his count there were six guards in the room with him and two more in the larger round room. There was no way he could fight them all and that put Mal at an impasse. He didn’t want to go through whatever he was about to experience and at the same time he didn’t want to die. He wanted to get out of this place, but he didn’t know how yet. He had to bide his time until there was a crack he could squeeze through.
His shirt was cut off of him in pieces and his boots and socks were removed. He forced a smirk and shrugged. “Not one of my favorite shirts anyway.”
One of the guards laughed at that and backed up towards the glass door. “The Admiral will be in to see you in a few hours.” He pointed to a corner of the ceiling. “We’ll all be able to watch, Captain Reynolds. And we’re all looking forward to it. Who knows, maybe we’ll broadcast it across the Universe.”
Mal looked up to the camera that hung in the corner of the ceiling and then back down to the guard. “Wouldn’t do so well for the Alliance’s image, now would it? Showin’ everybody what you’re doin’ down here… Who’s the men in those other rooms? Guessin’ they’re not particularly friends of the almighty Alliance either?”
“Let’s just say that they’ve only been here for two weeks and we aren’t nearly as irritated with them as we are with you.” The guard grinned and backed out of the room after the rest of the guards had filed out. “Like the Admiral said, you’re special.” The glass doors slid closed leaving Mal alone with his own thoughts, which at this point were a torture in and of themselves.