Author’s Notes

This fic takes place after the last episode of the show. Movie will not be happening. The story will contain five chapters and end at about 21,000 words.

The characters don’t belong to me; Joss is boss.

A huge thank you to my beta-testers: Ann, Rivendellrose, Warrior Zoe, and noandwhere.

Treasure -- Chapter Two

Mal and Zoe stared at the numbers on the balance sheet in front of them. They knew they could not force the figures to bend to their will, and could not bargain with them either.

“Shit,” Mal groaned, after both he and his first mate re-checked the calculations. “We keep this up, we ain’t gonna have enough fuel left to get to Paquin,” he added. “Or to keep eatin’.”

During their last planetside trip, they sold their cargo at an insulting price. One of their reliable buyers had been killed months before, another captured by the Alliance, and a third had disappeared. New buyers were harder and harder to come by as well, with so much of the underground either imprisoned or going out of business. To make matters worse, the money they did receive for that cargo was worth less and less with each passing week. Many colonies no longer accepted money and dealt only in barter. Most folk didn’t have much to barter with nowadays either; indentured servitude and slavery had always been common in the ‘verse and they grew more so with each passing month.

Seven months had now passed since Inara’s departure, and each week appeared more and more bleak. Every time Mal and his crew turned around, there was another report of a colony starving to death, or being hit by Reavers, or hauled off to perform slave labor. New plagues and diseases cropped up and decimated populations, leaving survivors weak and desperate. The ‘verse almost appeared to be shrinking, assaulted on all sides by terrifying forces. Even the sky seemed more empty, as fewer and fewer ships could find fuel, parts, or crew.

On board Serenity, the eight members of the crew were like a band of survivors from a wreck, huddled together in a cave for warmth and growing more desperate with each passing week. They counted and recounted food and fuel supplies, wondering where their next restocking would take place and desperately searching for another job. The last planet they visited had no fuel for sale, even in the underground markets.

“Don’t even got a job lined up on Paquin,” Zoe said.

Mal didn’t feel like muttering a platitude such as ‘We’ll find something,’ and was glad that around Zoe, he didn’t need to. “Maybe we can trade somethin’”, Mal replied. “Least Paquin don’t have any plagues now – leastways, not that we know of. If this damn Cortex report’s to be believed, they got smallest percentage of people dying of hunger.”

“That’s comforting,” Zoe remarked, her expression even.

Mal’s eyes scanned the inventory report one more time, and his voice took on an ominous tone. He now had no choice but to enact what he had been considering for weeks. “Zoe,” he began, “whether we get work on Paquin or not, we gotta start rationing food.”

The first mate nodded. She’d known this was coming. The crew had already been eating sparingly, and everyone’s stomachs periodically rumbled. Only Zoe’s body was larger, heavy with child.

“We eat twice a day now, not three times,” Mal continued. “’Cept for you – you gotta eat more for the little one. Everyone else, we’re countin’ every bite that goes into their mouths.”

“Been playin’ with some numbers on that myself, sir. Calorie counts based on body size.”

She pointed to a few figures that she had brought to their meeting. Mal nodded, and Zoe responded, “I’ll let the others know.”

As Zoe walked off the bridge, Mal prided himself on how well he had been holding his tongue during these past several months. His first officer and pilot were doing a foolhardy, selfish thing by bringing a baby into the ‘verse, he mused. In a matter of weeks, there would be another mouth to feed on this ship. Zoe was already unable to take part in any jobs that would require violence or danger – which effectively eliminated her from most any of the type of jobs Serenity typically received. The point was moot now, though, with the ship and crew out of work.

Mal shook his head. Zoe still worked as hard as anyone else around the ship, and her husband was still a dedicated pilot. Just because they were damned fools who believed in notions of love and of having a future didn’t mean he should disrespect them.

*** “Baby. Don’t like to see you worried,” Zoe said. She and Wash were alone on the bridge. Wash’s brow was knit in consternation as he looked down at the Cortex.

“Did you see this report?” Wash held up the device. “A ship was hit by a band of pirates. They forced themselves onto the ship, took everything including the ship itself, and left the survivors stranded down on some planet. How thoughtful of them to leave any survivors at all.

“And look at this,” he continued. “That mining colony on Chang went under. The owners went bankrupt and left in a shuttle. They left four thousand workers there to starve to death – which is exactly what happened. Oh, for those who didn’t die from dysentery or other diseases, that is.”

Zoe touched a hand to Wash’s shoulder. “We ain’t starvin’. We’ll figure a way through this.”

“Of course there are some rousing success stories,” Wash added, trying to brighten the mood a bit. “There’s always what Caro told us in his last wave.” Caro was one of Wash’s buddies from flight school. He and his crew had decided to set down on a remote planet and try to live off of the land – hunting and foraging nuts and berries.

“Wonder how they’re doin’,” Zoe muttered. “Didn’t think there were too many planets that had enough terrain to really live off of.”

“We might need to join them! I bet you and the Captain and Jayne would make a mean hunting party. The rest of us could stay behind, building shelters out of leaves and branches, rubbing rocks together to create a fire.” Wash felt he was laying on enough sarcasm for now and ceased his musings. He swallowed and asked, reverently touching a hand to Zoe’s belly, “How is she?” He was already giving up substantial portions of his own food to keep his wife, and thus his baby too, healthy.

“Good kicker. She was kickin’ up a storm in the cargo bay just now.”

“Ah, it must mean that she’ll be a great warrior woman! Like her mother. So c’mon… can’t we call her Zoe??” Wash pleaded.

Zoe shook her head. “We ain’t givin’ the baby the same name as me,” she insisted, wishing this debate would end soon. She favored concise, strong, one-syllable names for the baby – who was confirmed to be a girl, per the last round of tests. Zoe’s favorite names were along the lines of Ruth, Tess, Ann, Leigh, or Kate. When Wash wasn’t insisting upon naming the girl Zoe, he was creating hybrids of both their names and coming up with results such as Zoeann and Zoeburn. Zoe’s head hurt just thinking about such concoctions.

“Your own name’s Hoban,” she’d once commented, in response to his unusual baby-name suggestions. “Your parents pickin’ that name messed up your judgment good.”

An instrument on Serenity’s panel buzzed. Wash eyed the controls and said, “We’re approaching Paquin.”

“I’ll get the Captain.” Before Zoe left, she and Wash exchanged a quick kiss. He watched her leave the bridge, marveling that – despite her size -- she still moved with the grace and silence of a tiger.

*** Mal and Jayne went scouting out a new job. The rest of the crew, eager for a chance to breathe some fresh air, enjoyed themselves at an open-air café. Even Simon and River joined the outing; they had faced no trouble last time they were on Paquin, and the Alliance was even more scattered now. No Alliance ships were anywhere near the quadrant.

The café was crumbling, but remnants of its charm still shined through. Several tables, with mismatched chairs, formed a horseshoe shape around a floor that was inlaid with colored tiles. The tiles were now faded and chipped. The open floor had been designed for dancing, but the jukebox had been broken for months. Various trees and shrubs surrounded the café, and although some were starting to wilt, they did provide a fetching green background. The sun had just set, and the place was illuminated by torchlight and candles. A modest breeze floated by; the evening was a humid one. No one other than the Serenity crew occupied the place tonight.

The café had sustained water damage years ago and still retained a slightly musty odor. Still, the crew found that more appealing than the smell of sewage they encountered during their walk to the place; one of the town’s sewer lines had recently fallen apart.

The owner of the cafe, a man named Dawes, was an old war-buddy of Mal and Zoe’s. He pulled out all the stops to welcome the crew. While Kaylee made repairs to his generators and Simon examined Dawes’ lingering wounds (including a broken arm that had never been set properly), the others sat at the café, drank weak coffee, and feasted on tins of string beans, corn, and canned meat – all of which had passed their expirations dates, but not by too much.

Simon approached the table and poured himself some coffee. The sludge tasted far different than the rich, bold flavors of the coffee back on Osiris.

“How’s Dawes?” Zoe asked him. She herself was eschewing coffee.

“He’s ornery and grouchy,” Simon began with a smile, “and he hardly wanted my equipment on him.”

“That’s Dawes.” Zoe paused and added, “He was too damn stubborn to die during the war, ‘spite all the holes shot into him.”

Wash was cutting around a stringy piece of meat, removing the greenish parts. He subtly moved the more appetizing pieces onto Zoe’s plate, along with spoonfuls of corn.

Zoe shook her head. “Eat your dinner, husband.”

“I ate this morning. The protein bar was just delicious,” raved Wash.

“Ain’t enough. Eat more. The baby’s fine.” Zoe tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. Wash was making more sacrifices than he needed to lately, and she didn’t want him to grow to resent her or the baby.

River looked directly at the couple. “The ocean is rumbling,” she said. “But the boat won’t capsize.”

“Very poetic,” Wash remarked, cocking an eyebrow. Zoe had moved the meat back onto his plate, but he hadn’t touched it yet.

Book looked at his timepiece. “I wonder how Mal and Jayne are doing. I hope they’ve found something.”

“Whatever they’ve found,” Simon began, “I don’t know how we’re going to come up with enough fuel to get there.”

“We gotta get a job that ain’t off-world,” Zoe said.

“Dawes said we can stay here a while,” Wash added, though he knew there were limits to what the soldier could offer them. He had plenty of small repair jobs for Kaylee but not much in the way of spare food or supplies.

Suddenly the café’s lights flickered. A hum and whir started up, and the lights turned on at full power. The crew members squinted until their eyes adjusted to the brightness. Moments later, Kaylee and Dawes emerged from the back, Dawes limping after the mechanic. Kaylee was partially restraining a pleased grin.

“Girl’s a genius,” Dawes said. “I thought that thing was broke beyond repair. I knew Sergeant Reynolds’d pick the best crew!”

Simon looked admiringly at Kaylee. Her brilliance and her skill-set were of a totally different realm than Simon’s. All of it was home-cooked and some just inborn. Years ago, Simon might not have noticed such a talent, let alone appreciated it.

He smiled as Kaylee sat next to him and began picking at the food that had been set aside for her. She naturally relaxed against and snuggled into the arm Simon automatically set around her shoulder. He no longer worried about what to do.

River pointed at the jukebox. “Music. Please?” Her soul begged for music to dance to. River knew, deep inside her muscle tissue, that the thing she missed most about life on Osiris was the accessibility of music. Back then, the press of a button had opened up a world of music -- whatever type she craved. Whether she had wanted to dance to a ballet or to pop music, every recorded song had been at her fingertips. It was a luxury unknown in the frontier.

Dawes shook his head. “That old thing ain’t worked in months. Missin’ a few parts, and I don’t think Kaylee here can create parts outta thin air.”

“I can’t, but maybe I can find a substitute,” Kaylee said, munching on a string bean.

“Honey, why don’t you finish your dinner first?” Simon suggested, softly. “You’ve got to eat.”

“This won’t take but a minute,” she said, springing from her seat and towards the jukebox.

Within twenty minutes, music filled the café. River danced to the sprightly string music that she selected. The rest of the crew watched her during the fast-paced number. Her wide smile and far-away eyes indicated that the song had transported her somewhere more pleasant.

“My daughter’ll be so happy when I tell her it’s workin’ again. Just for that,” Dawes said, “I’m gonna share with you guys some dessert. I got a packet of dried apricots!” He had also enjoyed watching River’s dancing, to his surprise.

“Wow!” Kaylee exclaimed. Although she much preferred fresh, she adored any type of fruit. Her tongue could already taste the sweetness and tartness. Her mouth began to water in anticipation, and she could already feel the velvet of the dried apricot’s skin in her mouth and its stickiness clinging to her teeth. Simon looked at her and smiled at her excitement.

Portions of the fruit were set aside for Mal and Jayne, and the rest of the crew began to eat merrily – with the exception of River, who continued to dance. Wash again attempted to get his wife to eat his portion, saying that she needed such high-calorie foods. They argued, and compromised. She would eat half of his share.

River, sweating now from her movements to two songs in a row, walked over to the jukebox and cued up a slower-paced number. The café filled with a romantic song, and a singer with a passionate, smoky voice.

Kaylee nudged Simon. Although the thought of dancing in front of an audience – no matter how small – made him want to cringe, he also wanted Kaylee’s happiness to continue for the evening. He took her hand and led her to the open space in the middle of the café. His face turned crimson as he tripped over one of the loose tiles, but Simon soon regained some composure. The two slowly swayed to the music, pressing their bodies together. Kaylee filled with warmth at Simon’s touch.

River watched them and happily made kissing noises in their direction. Simon and Kaylee giggled in response.

Wash looked at the younger couple and tilted his head towards Zoe. He had a slightly imploring look on his face.

“I ain’t never been much of a dancer,” Zoe said quietly. “And I’m so big now,” she placed a hand on her belly. The baby was moving slightly.

“But try it anyway,” the Shepherd said in his soothing, deep tone. “No one here but your crew and your fellow veteran to see it.”

Zoe nodded and reached for Wash’s outstretched hand. She thought about making a comment that she was doing the doctor a service, being an even worse dancer than he. But she held her tongue as she and her husband moved to the slow music. After a few beats, they found it easier if they faced the same direction, his arms around her as they just rocked gently to the beat. Zoe’s eyelids gradually closed as she enjoyed the singer’s voice.

Dawes watched the woman he had known as Corporal Alleyne and tried to keep his mouth from dropping to the floor. He had been pretty shocked when he’d heard that she’d wed. To see her now, heavily pregnant and dancing tenderly with the man she called husband, made Dawes either want to laugh or faint. The image of Zoe blazed into his mind was of the steely fighter who braved Alliance troops without a shred of terror and faced death and destruction with equanimity while others around her panicked. He shook his head and noted that people could truly change.

“Well ain’t this just the most gorram romantic sight a man can see!” Mal exclaimed, as he and Jayne approached the café. Jayne nearly gagged at the site of Simon dancing. It was a bad ending to a difficult day for him.

“Sir,” Zoe said, opening her eyes and breaking off her dance. She covered her surprise and slight embarrassment well. “Do we have a job?”

“We got one! A solid one at that,” Mal grinned. His happiness at finding work tempered his displeasure at the romantic entanglements of his dancing crew.

“That is fantastic news!” Book exclaimed.

Only Jayne appeared angry and upset. In exchange for the fuel they needed to reach the job, he had sold Vera.

*** That night, both couples retired to their bunks.

Simon and Kaylee tended to divide their time between their two rooms. She liked the brightness of his bunk in the passenger section, and he liked the slightly thicker walls in her bunk. River was less likely to pop in at the most inopportune times if they were in Kaylee’s bunk.

“We got a job! We got a job!” Kaylee enthused as she eagerly shed her clothing. A T-shirt was pulled over her head, revealing her slender waist. Simon used to better enjoy the sight of her taut midsection weeks ago. But nowadays, when all of them had clear outlines of ribs showing through, he liked the view less and wished they had more provisions. Kaylee reached towards a shelf – they were in her bunk tonight – and fastened her long hair with a band.

“Your hair looks pretty like that,” Simon said, smiling. “And – and you’re so pretty when you’re smiling too.”

“It’s been the shiniest day ever!” Kaylee raved. “We got a job. We got to eat some okay food and…dried apricots! And you danced with me.” She leaned in closer to him and unceremoniously began unfastening his over-shirt. “You’re a real good dancer.”

“Really? I don’t know,” he said, lifting his arms over his head so the second layer of his upper-body clothing could be removed. “I’m an okay dancer.” He then added, “You are a brilliant mechanic. I – I admire you. For what you’re able to do.”

Kaylee nearly wanted to blush. She had already been grinning, so she settled for demurely thanking him for the compliment.

Then, at Kaylee’s behest, Simon stood up and allowed her to unfasten his pants. Her fingers deftly undid the buttons.

“You’re so shuai when you’re naked,” she smiled. She then sighed, still feeling wonderment and delight – after all of these months – that this elegant, handsome, kindhearted man chose her as his lover.

Simon again couldn’t help but to return her grin. Making love to Kaylee had been easy; he now knew that he’d really had nothing to worry about when they started, months ago. She was patient and loving, which allowed him to relax. The only times she got frustrated were when he let himself get anxious, worrying about performance and treating it like it was an operation rather than a way to express affection and intimacy.

That was his last lucid thought before Kaylee reached for him.

Meanwhile, Zoe and Wash undressed for bed. At the sight of her bare belly, Wash cooed and made other inane sounds at the baby. Zoe smiled as she lowered herself onto the bed.

“Thanks for dancing with me tonight,” Wash said, as he settled in next to her.

“It wasn’t bad,” Zoe responded. “I got to try somethin’ new.”

“But the captain saw you on the dance floor. I got the distinct impression he was either smirking or frowning inside. Although I guess it’s because he doesn’t like having two happy couples in his crew.”

Zoe was silent for a moment or two before she said, “Don’t like where you’re goin’ with this.” Her voice was pleasant enough but it conveyed a warning.

“Sorry, sorry – I forgot. Malcolm Reynolds can do no wrong and we cannot hint at criticizing him. Ever.”

“Those ‘two happy couples’ you mentioned are goin’ down to one real fast if you keep this up.”

Although he did not like being admonished by his wife, Wash decided to let it drop. There was no point in rehashing the old argument and he truly had no desire for a quarrel. They had been through it all before and he already knew, and had accepted, the fact that any slightly negative remark about the captain would be met with a disapproving reaction. He didn’t like that fact but he knew that loving Zoe and being loved by her would mean making concessions such as these.

He questioned what even made him want to bring it up tonight, and played around with it in his mind a bit.

“I’ve been on edge lately,” he admitted, thinking out loud. “I’m glad we got a job and I had fun at the café, but I’ve been stressed.”

Zoe softened inside. “I know,” she said. “You ain’t been eatin’ enough, givin’ half your food to me. It’s enough to make anyone a mite jumpy.”

She reached behind herself to stroke him lovingly. She turned slightly to get better access to his arms and chest. She added silently, ‘He’s makin’ huge sacrifices for a baby he wasn’t all that gung-ho on havin’ in the first place. Least I could do is let him blow off a little steam,’ she told herself, thinking that if her husband wanted to criticize the captain, it would not have been the end of the ‘verse.

Wash returned his wife’s caresses. “You know what I like best about this pregnancy thing?” he murmured, as his hands roamed from Zoe’s belly up to her now-fuller breasts.

“Xiaoxin,” she warned languidly, as he cupped them. “They’re tender.” She grasped his hand and moved it quite a bit lower. “But this area wants your touch.”

Though Zoe couldn’t see his facial expression because of the way they were positioned, Wash grinned. Much later, he lazily thought as he entered her that at least one of his fears about her being pregnant was not coming true. He moved her warm hair aside and kissed the back of her damp neck.

***

TO BE CONTINUED