Firefly Ficathon: A Life of Dolls
For rhyo, who wanted plot and ensemble. It turned out to be one hell of a learning experience. 4,163 words.
Thanks to tafkar for inadvertantly giving me a teensy little idea involving Zoe, and skripka for reassuring me that it doesn't suck. :)
This takes place between "War Stories" and "Trash."
***
A Life of Dolls
Serenity
Simon sat in the dimness of the stairwell near the infirmary. He was studying something in his hand--a small heart, carved out of rose quartz, dangling from a thin, golden chain. He held it up to the light, turning it this way and that, examining it from every angle. He stroked it gently, lost in thought.
He was startled when Wash's voice boomed throughout the ship. "Would our illustrious captain please report to the bridge." There was a moment of silence, and then, "I am the great God of the Intercom. Bow down before me or incur my wrath."
A different voice proclaimed from on high, "Shut your ruttin' mouth before I shut it for you."
A slight pause, then a melodic voice. "The Goddess of Pain will smite you if you speak to her husband that way again, Jayne."
There was a longer pause this time. Then, "You'll have to catch me first."
And then a sunny voice: "Oh, can I be the Goddess of Shiny Things?"
Simon smiled and reflexively squeezed the little heart.
"I hereby bestow upon you the title of--Ow, ow, Mal!"
"Turn that gorram thing off, or the God of Captainy Things will toss your--" The intercom cut off abruptly.
Silence descended on the stairwell again, and Simon returned to staring at the necklace, chewing lightly on his lower lip.
A few minutes later, hurried footsteps clanged along the catwalks. Simon hid the necklace in a pocket.
"Tell Kaylee to get us up and running. We got places to be."
"Where we headed, sir?"
"Paquin. Badger's got a job for us."
Simon heard footsteps--Zoe's, presumably--passing by above him, heading towards the engine room. Other footsteps faded away towards the cargo bay. He sat for a moment longer, then hauled himself to his feet and went down to check on River.
The Two-Headed Cowboy Saloon
New Cheyenne, Paquin
Mal froze with his drink halfway to his mouth. "This...cargo. There's a profit to be had from smuggling it?"
"Oh, yes. They've become quite a commodity. The Alliance, of course, likes to heavily tax our off-world profits, so we find it's best if they not know how many we sell," Mal's contact said. He was a slightly stuffy man dressed in a suit just a bit too fancy to fit in with its current surroundings. The man sipped a glass of plain water, as none of this drinking establishment's fine selection of watered-down beverages agreed with him.
Mal peered longingly into the depths of his glass, then heaved a sigh and put the glass back on the table. "And Badger told you that I was the man for the job?"
"He did. He was very complimentary. Mostly." The man paused delicately. "There was one unflattering word that he used, but I don't think that he knew what it meant."
Mal quirked an eyebrow at the man, but didn't ask. "How much merchandise we talking here?"
"Four crates. It shouldn't be a problem for you to get them onto your ship without being caught. The Alliance usually has better things to do with its time than worry about petty smuggling, and the local law-enforcement doesn't much care." As much as he looked out of place in a cheap saloon, the man had clearly done this before.
Mal nodded. "Could be we'll take the job." He tossed back the rest of his drink, then settled in to talk terms.
Serenity's Bridge
Wash was relaxing in the pilot's seat with his feet up on the console. His humming was enthusiastic, if not quite on-key. It might have been a battle hymn before he butchered it, or possibly a dirge. It was hard to tell.
The second the console beeped, he became all businesslike. He brought the incoming message up on the screen and read through the scrolling text. "Mother of--" he muttered under his breath. He turned and yelled down the hall, "ZOE!"
High Street
Mal ambled down the crowded street in the direction of Westgate Docks. He pulled a radio from a coat pocket. "Wash, we got work to be done. Is she fueled up and ready to go?"
He got an unexpectedly feminine voice in reply. "We got problems, sir."
Mal sighed through his nose and scanned the street around him as if hoping for a convenient person to throttle. After a moment, he responded. "What's up, Zoe?"
"Seems the Feds are looking for a shipment of drugs coming through here. Got the docks buttoned up tight till they find 'em."
He asked the street at large, "Do things ever go smooth?" A few people looked at him curiously as they passed by. Into the radio he said, "Understood. I'm on my way back."
He tucked the radio back into his coat and strode off down the street again, muttering curses to himself.
Serenity's Dining Area
"We got ourselves a job," Mal said, scanning the faces of those seated at the table before him. "Should've been easy work, and the pay's decent enough. Trouble is, the Feds have gone and complicated matters some."
Zoe took over. "They're searching all cargo being moved out of the city. Word is, a huge shipment of drugs was supposed to be moved off-world in the next few days, and the Feds mean to stop it."
"So, we took us a simple job, and wound up with a whole mess of difficulties. Same as usual," Mal added.
"Can't we just wait them out? Hope they find what they're looking for so's they can leave?" Kaylee asked.
Mal replied, "Trouble is, we don't know how long it'll take until they're satisfied. Could be a day, could be a week. And we've got a job to do."
Jayne piped up. "What about hookin' up with the cargo outside the city somewheres?"
"No good," Zoe answered. "Feds got patrols around the whole city. Nothing's getting out without them seeing."
Book had been listening thoughtfully thus far. "The good news is, their scanners detect chemical compounds, not the sort of goods we'll be dealing with. The bad news is, scanners can be tricked, so they'll be checking everything for hidden compartments and the like."
"We'll move first thing in the morning, when it's busiest and the Feds have their hands full with the morning rush," Mal said. "If anyone's got any notions as to how exactly we're going to pull this off, now's the time."
Wash raised his hand. "I could wear a chicken suit as a diversionary tactic," he said. "I've always wanted to try one on. They're so wacky."
Jayne grunted. "Who could tell the difference?"
Wash opened his mouth to respond, but Mal beat him to it. "Good. Wash can create a diversion by acting like an ass, and Jayne can confuse the Feds by actually being an ass." Mal was clearly being sarcastic, but a second later he got a thoughtful look on his face. "Huh."
"Sir?" Zoe looked wary.
An unnerving grin spread across Mal's face.
Zoe looked very wary.
Westgate Docks
As predicted, the docks were a madhouse. People were lined up all the way down the street, waiting to have their cargo and personal belongings searched so they could get to the docks. They were overwhelmingly cranky and impatient, and making this state of affairs known to any Feds who were unlucky enough to be within earshot.
The Feds themselves were none too pleased with the situation. They hadn't nearly the manpower needed to handle such a large volume of traffic, and they were all looking harried as a result.
Mal said quietly to Jayne, "There ain't half as many Feds as there were yesterday, and there weren't near as many folks waiting to get in then. Wonder where the rest got themselves off to?"
Jayne looked around nervously. "I don't like it. Ain't worth it, not for this cargo."
"This is exactly the cargo that's worth it. We get caught, it'll just be a slap on the wrist," Mal said. "And we wouldn't get paid," he added as an afterthought. "Just relax. Everything'll go fine, long as you don't tip them off acting all skittish."
"I ain't skittish. I just don't like relying so much on luck," Jayne said. "You've said yourself you hate luck. This the best plan you could come up with?"
"We ain't relyin' on luck. Least, no more than usual," Mal amended. "We're relying on keen insights into human nature, and teamwork, and some not unimpressive sleight of hand. It's a solid plan."
Jayne snorted. At the look Mal gave him, though, he didn't say any more about it.
"Yep," said Mal, "everything'll go smooth."
Jayne turned and leered at the woman who was behind them in line. "Hey there."
She looked at him with contempt.
River's Quarters
"You didn't buy me anything," River said without looking up from her drawing.
Simon looked momentarily confused, then guilty. "I bought you those colored pencils," he said.
River scoffed lightly and kept drawing.
He sighed. "How did you know about the necklace, River?"
"Saw it."
Simon sighed again and put his hand on hers to stop her from drawing. "Would you look at me, please?" he said.
She put down her pencil, but still avoided his eyes.
"What's wrong, mei-mei?" he asked, pushing a strand of hair away from her face.
She didn't answer.
"River?"
Her voice broke a little when she answered. "I don't want you to go away."
"Mei-mei..." Simon put an arm around her shoulders. "What makes you think I'm going away?"
"You and Kaylee are going to get married and have babies and live in a house. There's no room for me in the house," she said.
"That's...a little premature, don't you think?"
"The first step presupposes the last. Nothing can stop it. It's just math, it doesn't care what you want."
Simon appeared to be lost in thought for a moment, then he said, "We couldn't get married if we wanted to. Or live in a house. Fugitives can't do those things."
"You could turn me in. Then you wouldn't be wanted anymore, and you could do anything you liked."
Simon shifted his arm until he had her in a headlock. "What did you just say?"
River giggled.
"Seriously, mei-mei, I'm not going to leave you, not ever. So stop being such a dummy." He ruffled her hair as he released her.
"Okay." River smiled and went back to her drawing.
Simon watched her in silence.
Serenity's Bridge
Book was alone on the bridge. He intently studied the records displayed on a monitor, pushing buttons now and then. "Hmm," he said, pushing a few more buttons.
"Ahhh," he said, clearly pleased. He began typing rapidly.
Westgate Docks
"Morning, Officer," Mal said in a tone meant to put the officer at ease.
The officer, Henderson, according to his nametag, didn't seem to notice. "What's in the boxes?"
"See for yourself."
Henderson unlatched the lid closest to him and peered inside. His eyes widened and he looked around almost guiltily. When he saw that a woman was next in line--standing not ten feet away, and a schoolteacher by the look of her--he slammed the lid shut again.
"Is there a problem, Officer?"
Henderson glanced at him balefully before calling another officer over. "I'm going to have to search these boxes...elsewhere. Take over for me here." The other officer nodded.
Henderson turned back to Mal. "Move the cart over there," he said, gesturing towards a spot further into the docks, along the wall of a large warehouse. Mal and Jayne complied agreeably and wheeled the cart over. Once there, they each grabbed an end of the first cargo container, and heaved it onto the ground.
"Not there," said Henderson. "On the other side of the cart, next to the wall."
Neither Mal nor Jayne batted an eye at the request. They moved the box to the ground on the other side of the cart, then placed the other three containers beside it. The cart now blocked the containers from the view of most of the other people that crowded the docks.
"Open them up," said Henderson, trying to sound indifferent.
After a few moments work, all four containers stood open. Henderson made a face that was both disbelieving and unsurprised at the same time. "Do you have a permit for these?"
"Don't need a permit to transport secondhand personal goods. As you can see, they've all seen more than their fair share of use," Mal said, gesturing towards the contents of the crates.
Henderson grunted in agreement. He pulled a handheld scanner from the holster on his belt, and scanned each of the containers for what seemed to be an unnecessarily long time. Eventually he gave up and put away the scanner, looking somewhat dissatisfied. "All right," he sighed. "Now I have to search the containers by hand." He made no move towards the containers.
"Well, you'd best be getting started, then," Mal said.
Henderson looked indecisive. "What exactly are you planning to do with all these?" he asked desperately.
Mal exchanged significant looks with Jayne, then said, "I don't reckon you want to know the answer to that, Officer."
Henderson seemed inclined to agree, but he tried to look stern.
Mal stepped closer to the officer and spoke in a hushed voice. Whatever he said, Henderson didn't much care for, because he quickly took a few steps back and stared wide-eyed at Mal. And just as quickly changed the subject, although his voice sounded a little strained. "So, where are you boys headed?" The "boys" in question were clearly many years his senior, but he didn't seem to notice. Without waiting for an answer, he began to make a cautious approach to the cargo containers.
"Maybe Boros," Mal answered. "Haven't rightly decided yet." Mal looked around with practiced casualness; none of the other Feds were paying any attention to them. He nodded subtly at Jayne. "I've got an uncle on Boros, though that's more of a reason to avoid it than to visit it. He ain't quite right in the head, if you know what I mean."
Henderson cast him a look of disbelief just before plunging one arm into the nearest container full of frilly ladies' undergarments. He looked more than a little uncomfortable with this arrangement, and rooted around as quickly as possible. Looking confused, he stopped and pulled out something leather and strappy, but quickly threw it back in.
Mal noticed a slight commotion back near the checkpoint. Wash and Kaylee were apparently trying to cut in line, and the other people weren't happy about it. Neither were the Feds, for that matter. Wash was gesturing towards Mal and Jayne, looking earnest and a little upset. One of the Feds was gesturing towards the decent-sized box that Wash was carrying, while Kaylee pleaded endearingly.
"Hey," Mal called to Henderson, who was just about to start on the second crate. Mal nodded his head towards the fuss over at the checkpoint. "Those two troublemakers are mine. Would you mind...?"
Henderson seemed relieved to be interrupted. He came around the cart and gestured for the other officer to send Wash and Kaylee over. He seemed particularly interested in Kaylee as she hurried towards them, some small amount of her cleavage showing.
"We've been looking everywhere for you," Wash said to Mal.
"I found a guy says he's got the part we need, but it's gonna cost twice what we were hoping," Kaylee said. She seemed to notice Henderson for the first time. "Well, hello. My name's Kaylee," she said, thrusting her hand towards him. He instinctively took her hand and shook it, seemingly entranced by her smile.
Henderson shook himself and tried to get back to business. "What's in that box?" he asked, then winced slightly as he remembered what had happened the last time he asked that question. He was noticeably relieved to hear Kaylee's answer.
"Them's just dolls. Got 'em for my two sisters, and my mama, and my cousin Charlene, and my cousin Darla, and," she ticked the names off on her fingers, "my Aunt Marta, and--"
"That's fine," interrupted Henderson. "Open it, please."
Wash put the box down and opened it for him. Henderson scanned the contents, then hunkered down and began removing the smaller boxes one by one. Each one he opened contained a little geisha doll, as promised. "How did you pay for all these? They're fairly expensive, aren't they?"
Throughout all this, Jayne worked quietly behind the cart, out of sight.
"Oh, they were presents," said Kaylee. "Got myself a rich gentleman friend, likes to buy me pretty things. All I have to do in return is lie on my back, so what do I care?"
Henderson's eyes bugged out again. He started looking at them all like they were freaks. He struggled to find something to say, but was saved the trouble.
"Well, you feel like lying on your back again anytime soon, you just let me know," Wash said, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close.
Henderson's jaw dropped. He stuffed the doll boxes back into the larger box and stood on shaky legs. "Everything seems to be in order. I'll just finish checking the other containers now," he said faintly.
Jayne was leaning against the cart looking bored. Henderson never even glanced at him as he got to work on the second container.
Simon's Quarters
Simon put the little necklace back in its box, and carefully hid it in the depths of his luggage. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at nothing.
He had no idea she was watching him until she spoke. "I'm sorry," she said, lurking in his doorway. "I didn't mean it. You should be with Kaylee."
Simon looked away. "It's not your fault, mei-mei. I just don't want to rush into anything," he said.
River came in and sat beside him. "Once time is gone, it never comes back," she said, putting her arm through his.
"I know, I just..." He seemed at a loss for words for a long moment. "I'm not sure about anything anymore, and I don't--I don't want to make Kaylee think that I'm sure if I'm not. It just wouldn't be fair to her." He swallowed with obvious effort. "I need time."
River rested her head on his shoulder.
Persephone
Badger was in his office, filling out paperwork. He didn't seem to much enjoy it.
Every now and then, he looked up at the doll on the corner of his desk; he couldn't help but grin. Revenge was a dish best served by wobbly-headed dolls.
Westgate Docks
Henderson was elbow-deep in the third cargo container when he yelped and withdrew his hand as if something had bitten him.
"Problem?" Jayne asked with a trace of amusement in his voice.
"There's a--a--" Henderson's mouth moved wordlessly. He gestured helplessly towards the container.
"What?" Jayne asked. He went over and dug around in the offending container for a few seconds. He snickered as he pulled out a cylindrical object. "This the problem? Why, this here belongs to little Kaylee. You know how girlfolk get sometimes." Jayne winked at him.
Henderson stared at the fourth cargo container as if wondering what fresh horrors it held within its depths. He braced himself and moved towards it.
"Gorramit," said Mal, angrily squinting at the crowds. "Where have those two gotten off to now?"
Henderson sighed. "Now what?"
"My crew's gone and wandered off again, is what," Mal fumed. "It'd be a gorram miracle if those two could keep from pawin' each other for five rutting minutes."
Henderson didn't seem very interested in their disappearance. He turned back towards the container, until Mal swore violently and began striding across the street. Henderson followed him, demanding that Mal stop.
Mal obeyed grudgingly, but pointed down the street to the spot where Wash had Kaylee pinned against a wall. The two were clearly being quite friendly. "What the hell do they think they're doing, actin' like that in the middle of a crowded street?"
Henderson was starting to look annoyed. He called to another officer and gestured towards the amorous couple. He and Mal watched in silence as the officer went to break up the fun.
The officer put a hand on Wash's shoulder, startling Wash--who accidentally dropped his pants as he spun around. Wash was so agitated that he didn't even bother to pull them up, opting instead to stand in full view of the crowd in his boxer shorts, arguing with the officer. Kaylee grabbed his arm, clearly pleading with him to stop annoying the lawman.
The distraction gave Jayne more than enough time to swap the third cargo container with the fourth.
At last, Kaylee was able to lead the now pants-clad Wash off down the street, and the officer returned to his post. Henderson returned to the last cargo container, looking bemused.
He stopped suddenly, frowning. He looked back and forth between the third and fourth containers a few times.
Mal stiffened slightly, but before a problem could develop, Henderson straightened up, listening to something being broadcast through his earpiece. A quick glance around told Mal that all the Feds were listening intently to whatever message they were getting.
A moment later, Henderson relaxed. "You can pack all this up. We're done," he said to Mal.
Mal was genuinely surprised. "Aren't you going to check the last box?" He sounded a little hurt, actually.
"No need. We've found what we were looking for."
Mal could see that the other Feds were waving everyone through as well. "Huh."
Serenity's Cargobay
Mal strode up the ramp, letting Jayne pull the cart up by himself.
Zoe was sitting on the stairs waiting, looking a little uncomfortable in her schoolteacher's outfit. A box sat nearby. "Everything go smooth, sir?"
"Insanely smooth, Zoe. Might be something to this 'luck' idea after all."
Zoe raised an eyebrow.
"Feds are clearin' out," Jayne said.
Zoe looked almost alarmed. "Our luck can't be that good. Can it?"
"Let's not look a gift whatever in the mouth. Jayne, get those girly things back to Madame Chanterelle, and thank her kindly for letting us borrow them." At Jayne's grin, he added, "But not too kindly. I expect you back here with those other two crates of dolls within the hour."
Jayne got a little pouty, but he helped Mal unload the containers without a word. He opened up two of them and cleared off the thin layer of underwear and such that hid the dolls below. He stuffed those underthings into the other two containers, which he then loaded back onto the cart. He seemed almost depressed as he pulled the cart back down the ramp and off towards the city.
Zoe opened the box that she had brought through the checkpoint. It was filled with doll boxes, same as Kaylee and Wash's box had been. She carefully repacked them in the large cargo containers where they belonged. She saw Mal staring off into space. "Good day's work, sir."
"Huh?" Mal was startled out of his reverie. "Oh, yeah. Just wish we'd known they were gonna clear out so fast. Would've saved us a whole lot of trouble."
Zoe smirked. "You got my husband to drop his pants in the middle of the street. You sayin' you're sorry you got to see that?"
Mal chuckled. "Guess not. Go tell that husband of yours we leave for Persephone in one hour."
Inara's Shuttle
Inara gently pulled the brush through Kaylee's hair. "He actually yelled at a Fed without any pants on?" she asked, amused.
"Well, the Fed had pants on," Kaylee teased. "I don't think even Jayne would've yelled at a Fed that weren't wearin' no pants."
Inara lightly tugged on Kaylee's hair, smiling. "Don't change the subject. I want to hear all about Wash's lack of pants."
"There really ain't much to tell--except I think the Fed might've been a little turned on by the whole thing. He didn't yell at us near as much as he should've."
Inara laughed so hard it took her a minute to catch her breath. "Oh, my. I wish I could have been there."
"And the Fed that was with the Cap'n, he couldn't tear his eyes away, neither. Just kept gawkin' till we was clear down the street."
"I bet you never thought that your life of crime would be so glamorous."
"Nope. Them dolls are the fanciest things we've smuggled yet. My folks would be so proud."
Inara laughed again. "I'm sure they would."
"So, what did you do this morning while we were out being criminals?" Kaylee asked.
"Practiced calligraphy, practiced the dulcimer. Ate breakfast, and then practiced some more."
"Wow. My life of crime is sounding better all the time." She looked up at Inara and smiled.
Thanks to tafkar for inadvertantly giving me a teensy little idea involving Zoe, and skripka for reassuring me that it doesn't suck. :)
This takes place between "War Stories" and "Trash."
***
A Life of Dolls
Serenity
Simon sat in the dimness of the stairwell near the infirmary. He was studying something in his hand--a small heart, carved out of rose quartz, dangling from a thin, golden chain. He held it up to the light, turning it this way and that, examining it from every angle. He stroked it gently, lost in thought.
He was startled when Wash's voice boomed throughout the ship. "Would our illustrious captain please report to the bridge." There was a moment of silence, and then, "I am the great God of the Intercom. Bow down before me or incur my wrath."
A different voice proclaimed from on high, "Shut your ruttin' mouth before I shut it for you."
A slight pause, then a melodic voice. "The Goddess of Pain will smite you if you speak to her husband that way again, Jayne."
There was a longer pause this time. Then, "You'll have to catch me first."
And then a sunny voice: "Oh, can I be the Goddess of Shiny Things?"
Simon smiled and reflexively squeezed the little heart.
"I hereby bestow upon you the title of--Ow, ow, Mal!"
"Turn that gorram thing off, or the God of Captainy Things will toss your--" The intercom cut off abruptly.
Silence descended on the stairwell again, and Simon returned to staring at the necklace, chewing lightly on his lower lip.
A few minutes later, hurried footsteps clanged along the catwalks. Simon hid the necklace in a pocket.
"Tell Kaylee to get us up and running. We got places to be."
"Where we headed, sir?"
"Paquin. Badger's got a job for us."
Simon heard footsteps--Zoe's, presumably--passing by above him, heading towards the engine room. Other footsteps faded away towards the cargo bay. He sat for a moment longer, then hauled himself to his feet and went down to check on River.
The Two-Headed Cowboy Saloon
New Cheyenne, Paquin
Mal froze with his drink halfway to his mouth. "This...cargo. There's a profit to be had from smuggling it?"
"Oh, yes. They've become quite a commodity. The Alliance, of course, likes to heavily tax our off-world profits, so we find it's best if they not know how many we sell," Mal's contact said. He was a slightly stuffy man dressed in a suit just a bit too fancy to fit in with its current surroundings. The man sipped a glass of plain water, as none of this drinking establishment's fine selection of watered-down beverages agreed with him.
Mal peered longingly into the depths of his glass, then heaved a sigh and put the glass back on the table. "And Badger told you that I was the man for the job?"
"He did. He was very complimentary. Mostly." The man paused delicately. "There was one unflattering word that he used, but I don't think that he knew what it meant."
Mal quirked an eyebrow at the man, but didn't ask. "How much merchandise we talking here?"
"Four crates. It shouldn't be a problem for you to get them onto your ship without being caught. The Alliance usually has better things to do with its time than worry about petty smuggling, and the local law-enforcement doesn't much care." As much as he looked out of place in a cheap saloon, the man had clearly done this before.
Mal nodded. "Could be we'll take the job." He tossed back the rest of his drink, then settled in to talk terms.
Serenity's Bridge
Wash was relaxing in the pilot's seat with his feet up on the console. His humming was enthusiastic, if not quite on-key. It might have been a battle hymn before he butchered it, or possibly a dirge. It was hard to tell.
The second the console beeped, he became all businesslike. He brought the incoming message up on the screen and read through the scrolling text. "Mother of--" he muttered under his breath. He turned and yelled down the hall, "ZOE!"
High Street
Mal ambled down the crowded street in the direction of Westgate Docks. He pulled a radio from a coat pocket. "Wash, we got work to be done. Is she fueled up and ready to go?"
He got an unexpectedly feminine voice in reply. "We got problems, sir."
Mal sighed through his nose and scanned the street around him as if hoping for a convenient person to throttle. After a moment, he responded. "What's up, Zoe?"
"Seems the Feds are looking for a shipment of drugs coming through here. Got the docks buttoned up tight till they find 'em."
He asked the street at large, "Do things ever go smooth?" A few people looked at him curiously as they passed by. Into the radio he said, "Understood. I'm on my way back."
He tucked the radio back into his coat and strode off down the street again, muttering curses to himself.
Serenity's Dining Area
"We got ourselves a job," Mal said, scanning the faces of those seated at the table before him. "Should've been easy work, and the pay's decent enough. Trouble is, the Feds have gone and complicated matters some."
Zoe took over. "They're searching all cargo being moved out of the city. Word is, a huge shipment of drugs was supposed to be moved off-world in the next few days, and the Feds mean to stop it."
"So, we took us a simple job, and wound up with a whole mess of difficulties. Same as usual," Mal added.
"Can't we just wait them out? Hope they find what they're looking for so's they can leave?" Kaylee asked.
Mal replied, "Trouble is, we don't know how long it'll take until they're satisfied. Could be a day, could be a week. And we've got a job to do."
Jayne piped up. "What about hookin' up with the cargo outside the city somewheres?"
"No good," Zoe answered. "Feds got patrols around the whole city. Nothing's getting out without them seeing."
Book had been listening thoughtfully thus far. "The good news is, their scanners detect chemical compounds, not the sort of goods we'll be dealing with. The bad news is, scanners can be tricked, so they'll be checking everything for hidden compartments and the like."
"We'll move first thing in the morning, when it's busiest and the Feds have their hands full with the morning rush," Mal said. "If anyone's got any notions as to how exactly we're going to pull this off, now's the time."
Wash raised his hand. "I could wear a chicken suit as a diversionary tactic," he said. "I've always wanted to try one on. They're so wacky."
Jayne grunted. "Who could tell the difference?"
Wash opened his mouth to respond, but Mal beat him to it. "Good. Wash can create a diversion by acting like an ass, and Jayne can confuse the Feds by actually being an ass." Mal was clearly being sarcastic, but a second later he got a thoughtful look on his face. "Huh."
"Sir?" Zoe looked wary.
An unnerving grin spread across Mal's face.
Zoe looked very wary.
Westgate Docks
As predicted, the docks were a madhouse. People were lined up all the way down the street, waiting to have their cargo and personal belongings searched so they could get to the docks. They were overwhelmingly cranky and impatient, and making this state of affairs known to any Feds who were unlucky enough to be within earshot.
The Feds themselves were none too pleased with the situation. They hadn't nearly the manpower needed to handle such a large volume of traffic, and they were all looking harried as a result.
Mal said quietly to Jayne, "There ain't half as many Feds as there were yesterday, and there weren't near as many folks waiting to get in then. Wonder where the rest got themselves off to?"
Jayne looked around nervously. "I don't like it. Ain't worth it, not for this cargo."
"This is exactly the cargo that's worth it. We get caught, it'll just be a slap on the wrist," Mal said. "And we wouldn't get paid," he added as an afterthought. "Just relax. Everything'll go fine, long as you don't tip them off acting all skittish."
"I ain't skittish. I just don't like relying so much on luck," Jayne said. "You've said yourself you hate luck. This the best plan you could come up with?"
"We ain't relyin' on luck. Least, no more than usual," Mal amended. "We're relying on keen insights into human nature, and teamwork, and some not unimpressive sleight of hand. It's a solid plan."
Jayne snorted. At the look Mal gave him, though, he didn't say any more about it.
"Yep," said Mal, "everything'll go smooth."
Jayne turned and leered at the woman who was behind them in line. "Hey there."
She looked at him with contempt.
River's Quarters
"You didn't buy me anything," River said without looking up from her drawing.
Simon looked momentarily confused, then guilty. "I bought you those colored pencils," he said.
River scoffed lightly and kept drawing.
He sighed. "How did you know about the necklace, River?"
"Saw it."
Simon sighed again and put his hand on hers to stop her from drawing. "Would you look at me, please?" he said.
She put down her pencil, but still avoided his eyes.
"What's wrong, mei-mei?" he asked, pushing a strand of hair away from her face.
She didn't answer.
"River?"
Her voice broke a little when she answered. "I don't want you to go away."
"Mei-mei..." Simon put an arm around her shoulders. "What makes you think I'm going away?"
"You and Kaylee are going to get married and have babies and live in a house. There's no room for me in the house," she said.
"That's...a little premature, don't you think?"
"The first step presupposes the last. Nothing can stop it. It's just math, it doesn't care what you want."
Simon appeared to be lost in thought for a moment, then he said, "We couldn't get married if we wanted to. Or live in a house. Fugitives can't do those things."
"You could turn me in. Then you wouldn't be wanted anymore, and you could do anything you liked."
Simon shifted his arm until he had her in a headlock. "What did you just say?"
River giggled.
"Seriously, mei-mei, I'm not going to leave you, not ever. So stop being such a dummy." He ruffled her hair as he released her.
"Okay." River smiled and went back to her drawing.
Simon watched her in silence.
Serenity's Bridge
Book was alone on the bridge. He intently studied the records displayed on a monitor, pushing buttons now and then. "Hmm," he said, pushing a few more buttons.
"Ahhh," he said, clearly pleased. He began typing rapidly.
Westgate Docks
"Morning, Officer," Mal said in a tone meant to put the officer at ease.
The officer, Henderson, according to his nametag, didn't seem to notice. "What's in the boxes?"
"See for yourself."
Henderson unlatched the lid closest to him and peered inside. His eyes widened and he looked around almost guiltily. When he saw that a woman was next in line--standing not ten feet away, and a schoolteacher by the look of her--he slammed the lid shut again.
"Is there a problem, Officer?"
Henderson glanced at him balefully before calling another officer over. "I'm going to have to search these boxes...elsewhere. Take over for me here." The other officer nodded.
Henderson turned back to Mal. "Move the cart over there," he said, gesturing towards a spot further into the docks, along the wall of a large warehouse. Mal and Jayne complied agreeably and wheeled the cart over. Once there, they each grabbed an end of the first cargo container, and heaved it onto the ground.
"Not there," said Henderson. "On the other side of the cart, next to the wall."
Neither Mal nor Jayne batted an eye at the request. They moved the box to the ground on the other side of the cart, then placed the other three containers beside it. The cart now blocked the containers from the view of most of the other people that crowded the docks.
"Open them up," said Henderson, trying to sound indifferent.
After a few moments work, all four containers stood open. Henderson made a face that was both disbelieving and unsurprised at the same time. "Do you have a permit for these?"
"Don't need a permit to transport secondhand personal goods. As you can see, they've all seen more than their fair share of use," Mal said, gesturing towards the contents of the crates.
Henderson grunted in agreement. He pulled a handheld scanner from the holster on his belt, and scanned each of the containers for what seemed to be an unnecessarily long time. Eventually he gave up and put away the scanner, looking somewhat dissatisfied. "All right," he sighed. "Now I have to search the containers by hand." He made no move towards the containers.
"Well, you'd best be getting started, then," Mal said.
Henderson looked indecisive. "What exactly are you planning to do with all these?" he asked desperately.
Mal exchanged significant looks with Jayne, then said, "I don't reckon you want to know the answer to that, Officer."
Henderson seemed inclined to agree, but he tried to look stern.
Mal stepped closer to the officer and spoke in a hushed voice. Whatever he said, Henderson didn't much care for, because he quickly took a few steps back and stared wide-eyed at Mal. And just as quickly changed the subject, although his voice sounded a little strained. "So, where are you boys headed?" The "boys" in question were clearly many years his senior, but he didn't seem to notice. Without waiting for an answer, he began to make a cautious approach to the cargo containers.
"Maybe Boros," Mal answered. "Haven't rightly decided yet." Mal looked around with practiced casualness; none of the other Feds were paying any attention to them. He nodded subtly at Jayne. "I've got an uncle on Boros, though that's more of a reason to avoid it than to visit it. He ain't quite right in the head, if you know what I mean."
Henderson cast him a look of disbelief just before plunging one arm into the nearest container full of frilly ladies' undergarments. He looked more than a little uncomfortable with this arrangement, and rooted around as quickly as possible. Looking confused, he stopped and pulled out something leather and strappy, but quickly threw it back in.
Mal noticed a slight commotion back near the checkpoint. Wash and Kaylee were apparently trying to cut in line, and the other people weren't happy about it. Neither were the Feds, for that matter. Wash was gesturing towards Mal and Jayne, looking earnest and a little upset. One of the Feds was gesturing towards the decent-sized box that Wash was carrying, while Kaylee pleaded endearingly.
"Hey," Mal called to Henderson, who was just about to start on the second crate. Mal nodded his head towards the fuss over at the checkpoint. "Those two troublemakers are mine. Would you mind...?"
Henderson seemed relieved to be interrupted. He came around the cart and gestured for the other officer to send Wash and Kaylee over. He seemed particularly interested in Kaylee as she hurried towards them, some small amount of her cleavage showing.
"We've been looking everywhere for you," Wash said to Mal.
"I found a guy says he's got the part we need, but it's gonna cost twice what we were hoping," Kaylee said. She seemed to notice Henderson for the first time. "Well, hello. My name's Kaylee," she said, thrusting her hand towards him. He instinctively took her hand and shook it, seemingly entranced by her smile.
Henderson shook himself and tried to get back to business. "What's in that box?" he asked, then winced slightly as he remembered what had happened the last time he asked that question. He was noticeably relieved to hear Kaylee's answer.
"Them's just dolls. Got 'em for my two sisters, and my mama, and my cousin Charlene, and my cousin Darla, and," she ticked the names off on her fingers, "my Aunt Marta, and--"
"That's fine," interrupted Henderson. "Open it, please."
Wash put the box down and opened it for him. Henderson scanned the contents, then hunkered down and began removing the smaller boxes one by one. Each one he opened contained a little geisha doll, as promised. "How did you pay for all these? They're fairly expensive, aren't they?"
Throughout all this, Jayne worked quietly behind the cart, out of sight.
"Oh, they were presents," said Kaylee. "Got myself a rich gentleman friend, likes to buy me pretty things. All I have to do in return is lie on my back, so what do I care?"
Henderson's eyes bugged out again. He started looking at them all like they were freaks. He struggled to find something to say, but was saved the trouble.
"Well, you feel like lying on your back again anytime soon, you just let me know," Wash said, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close.
Henderson's jaw dropped. He stuffed the doll boxes back into the larger box and stood on shaky legs. "Everything seems to be in order. I'll just finish checking the other containers now," he said faintly.
Jayne was leaning against the cart looking bored. Henderson never even glanced at him as he got to work on the second container.
Simon's Quarters
Simon put the little necklace back in its box, and carefully hid it in the depths of his luggage. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at nothing.
He had no idea she was watching him until she spoke. "I'm sorry," she said, lurking in his doorway. "I didn't mean it. You should be with Kaylee."
Simon looked away. "It's not your fault, mei-mei. I just don't want to rush into anything," he said.
River came in and sat beside him. "Once time is gone, it never comes back," she said, putting her arm through his.
"I know, I just..." He seemed at a loss for words for a long moment. "I'm not sure about anything anymore, and I don't--I don't want to make Kaylee think that I'm sure if I'm not. It just wouldn't be fair to her." He swallowed with obvious effort. "I need time."
River rested her head on his shoulder.
Persephone
Badger was in his office, filling out paperwork. He didn't seem to much enjoy it.
Every now and then, he looked up at the doll on the corner of his desk; he couldn't help but grin. Revenge was a dish best served by wobbly-headed dolls.
Westgate Docks
Henderson was elbow-deep in the third cargo container when he yelped and withdrew his hand as if something had bitten him.
"Problem?" Jayne asked with a trace of amusement in his voice.
"There's a--a--" Henderson's mouth moved wordlessly. He gestured helplessly towards the container.
"What?" Jayne asked. He went over and dug around in the offending container for a few seconds. He snickered as he pulled out a cylindrical object. "This the problem? Why, this here belongs to little Kaylee. You know how girlfolk get sometimes." Jayne winked at him.
Henderson stared at the fourth cargo container as if wondering what fresh horrors it held within its depths. He braced himself and moved towards it.
"Gorramit," said Mal, angrily squinting at the crowds. "Where have those two gotten off to now?"
Henderson sighed. "Now what?"
"My crew's gone and wandered off again, is what," Mal fumed. "It'd be a gorram miracle if those two could keep from pawin' each other for five rutting minutes."
Henderson didn't seem very interested in their disappearance. He turned back towards the container, until Mal swore violently and began striding across the street. Henderson followed him, demanding that Mal stop.
Mal obeyed grudgingly, but pointed down the street to the spot where Wash had Kaylee pinned against a wall. The two were clearly being quite friendly. "What the hell do they think they're doing, actin' like that in the middle of a crowded street?"
Henderson was starting to look annoyed. He called to another officer and gestured towards the amorous couple. He and Mal watched in silence as the officer went to break up the fun.
The officer put a hand on Wash's shoulder, startling Wash--who accidentally dropped his pants as he spun around. Wash was so agitated that he didn't even bother to pull them up, opting instead to stand in full view of the crowd in his boxer shorts, arguing with the officer. Kaylee grabbed his arm, clearly pleading with him to stop annoying the lawman.
The distraction gave Jayne more than enough time to swap the third cargo container with the fourth.
At last, Kaylee was able to lead the now pants-clad Wash off down the street, and the officer returned to his post. Henderson returned to the last cargo container, looking bemused.
He stopped suddenly, frowning. He looked back and forth between the third and fourth containers a few times.
Mal stiffened slightly, but before a problem could develop, Henderson straightened up, listening to something being broadcast through his earpiece. A quick glance around told Mal that all the Feds were listening intently to whatever message they were getting.
A moment later, Henderson relaxed. "You can pack all this up. We're done," he said to Mal.
Mal was genuinely surprised. "Aren't you going to check the last box?" He sounded a little hurt, actually.
"No need. We've found what we were looking for."
Mal could see that the other Feds were waving everyone through as well. "Huh."
Serenity's Cargobay
Mal strode up the ramp, letting Jayne pull the cart up by himself.
Zoe was sitting on the stairs waiting, looking a little uncomfortable in her schoolteacher's outfit. A box sat nearby. "Everything go smooth, sir?"
"Insanely smooth, Zoe. Might be something to this 'luck' idea after all."
Zoe raised an eyebrow.
"Feds are clearin' out," Jayne said.
Zoe looked almost alarmed. "Our luck can't be that good. Can it?"
"Let's not look a gift whatever in the mouth. Jayne, get those girly things back to Madame Chanterelle, and thank her kindly for letting us borrow them." At Jayne's grin, he added, "But not too kindly. I expect you back here with those other two crates of dolls within the hour."
Jayne got a little pouty, but he helped Mal unload the containers without a word. He opened up two of them and cleared off the thin layer of underwear and such that hid the dolls below. He stuffed those underthings into the other two containers, which he then loaded back onto the cart. He seemed almost depressed as he pulled the cart back down the ramp and off towards the city.
Zoe opened the box that she had brought through the checkpoint. It was filled with doll boxes, same as Kaylee and Wash's box had been. She carefully repacked them in the large cargo containers where they belonged. She saw Mal staring off into space. "Good day's work, sir."
"Huh?" Mal was startled out of his reverie. "Oh, yeah. Just wish we'd known they were gonna clear out so fast. Would've saved us a whole lot of trouble."
Zoe smirked. "You got my husband to drop his pants in the middle of the street. You sayin' you're sorry you got to see that?"
Mal chuckled. "Guess not. Go tell that husband of yours we leave for Persephone in one hour."
Inara's Shuttle
Inara gently pulled the brush through Kaylee's hair. "He actually yelled at a Fed without any pants on?" she asked, amused.
"Well, the Fed had pants on," Kaylee teased. "I don't think even Jayne would've yelled at a Fed that weren't wearin' no pants."
Inara lightly tugged on Kaylee's hair, smiling. "Don't change the subject. I want to hear all about Wash's lack of pants."
"There really ain't much to tell--except I think the Fed might've been a little turned on by the whole thing. He didn't yell at us near as much as he should've."
Inara laughed so hard it took her a minute to catch her breath. "Oh, my. I wish I could have been there."
"And the Fed that was with the Cap'n, he couldn't tear his eyes away, neither. Just kept gawkin' till we was clear down the street."
"I bet you never thought that your life of crime would be so glamorous."
"Nope. Them dolls are the fanciest things we've smuggled yet. My folks would be so proud."
Inara laughed again. "I'm sure they would."
"So, what did you do this morning while we were out being criminals?" Kaylee asked.
"Practiced calligraphy, practiced the dulcimer. Ate breakfast, and then practiced some more."
"Wow. My life of crime is sounding better all the time." She looked up at Inara and smiled.