College has started again, so fair warning that things will not be posted so promptly.

Disclaimer: Serenity Firefly is the product of Fox (whom I have an ongoing love/hate relationship with) and Joss Whedon (whom I talk about waaay too much when I get into conversations regarding the writing/film industry). This applies to any and all of my firefly fictions. Therefore don't slap me with a lawsuit.

A/N: In memory of the show, I thought I would try to break up the series with some lighter 'episodes' (should I call these that?) in the likening of... well, whichever you thought was the most comedic. Just don't judge when I say comedic....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Whoa, whoa." Mal murmured as he raised a hand to signal his party to stop. The horses braked, restlessly treading their feet as they sensed something was afoot, pointed ears swiveling about. He looked well worn from travel, complete with muzzle from lack of razor. Turning around in his saddle, eyes on Zoe and Simon, a calloused finger reached to his lips to signal silence.

Zoe had her Winchester Randall out and ready, the placid mask of a veteran soldier adorning her face. And equally stubbled Simon had the only thing he could shoot moderately well, a Remington bolt action, but seemed edgy as he swallowed and fixated on Mal carefully dismounting.

Captain Malcolm Reynolds, gently resting his well traveled boots on the soil, kept one hand on the tang of his pistol as he heedfully prowled onward. Gaze searching the thick forest, the sun but a filter in the fronds of the trees as the air was chilled. The pines were evergreen, yet the oaks, cottonwoods, maples and dogwoods were as yellow and red with fall as the sunset itself. Their leaves already beginning to drift in the wind and cushion the treading of any that stepped. With the skill of a soldier and hunter of the land, his footsteps were soft and calculated on the leaf covered path. Skimming, making sure the trail was clear for the forest was too quiet, minutes elapsed. Letting out his breath, he relaxed and waved them forward. Taking a step forward to retrieve Xin, something crackled beneath his foot.

The trap snapped up, caught his ankle, and whipped Mal upside down till he was suspended roughly ten feet in the air below the branch of an ancient maple.

Zoe racked her gun and leapt off the dapple grey, as Simon raised his rifle to prepare for an attack.

"A, zhe shi ke-ai." The captain choked out as it was difficult for him to breathe upside whilst swinging like a pendulum. His coat covered his face, and his gun fell out of its holster. "Zoe, help would be welcome."

Raising the barrel, she closed one eye.

When his coat finally fell off and the line twisted to see how high she was aiming, his blue gaze widened. "Higher! Higher! I like my toes!"

As the trap was a difficult moving target, and Mal's caterwauling was distracting, she fired, and hit the line. But to no avail did it free the upended Reynolds. He continued to swing and twist like a flipped rag doll.

"Um... why am I not down?"

"Looks to be cable sir." She announced, creeping towards the tree like infantry stalking the enemy.

"Which we can't break...." Simon stated the obvious as panic surely but slowly set into his mind.

"Well someone better dismantle this snare." He grunted, flailing as he tried to curl up and free his leg. "Only a matter of time be...."

The net came up out of the needles and leaves, encapsulating Zoe. "Cong kao." She growled.

"Zoe? Please don't tell me you too."

"'Fraid so, Sir."

"You can't be up here." Mal groused, face red as the blood was rushing southward. "Now all we got is Simon and he's a gorram juniper."

"Hey." The doctor turned cowboy scowled in offense. Holstering his rifle, he turned and reached into his saddle bag, taking out a bowie knife. "I'll throw Zoe the knife, she can cut through the net, grab your line while she's up there and slip your foot out." Getting down, the doctor gingerly walked over.

"Hurry, whoever it is aims to be back here soon." The captain bristled.

"Give me a minute, I don't want to...."

Simon jerked as the line snapped him up into the tree.

"You wu-yong jain-feng mao." The suspended Mal announced through clench teeth.

"I have the knife!" He blurted, spinning wildly about.

Zoe swung her body over her net. Reaching out through a hole, she seized Simon's line. "Doc I gotcha. Throw it up."

Mal fell to the ground.

Simon fell to the ground.

Zoe fell to the ground.

The captain, dazed and confused, propped himself up and found the painted face of someone with an antique compact bow aimed at his throat. Looking to the side, he then noticed similar warriors in a circle, aiming at them all with guns, metal lances, bows, axes, and even a samurai sword or two. They were all dressed in skins; hide shirts, leggings with woven breech cloths and moccasins, all without facial hair, yet all with long hair regardless it be blonde, red, black or brown. Their hair was either down or in braids, decked with beads and feathers. Digesting it all, Mal gave an ironic smile and raised his hands in surrender. "Howdy"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon felt like a piece of meat.

He was bound by the wrists and ankles, and had a pole slipped between that gap so two men could carry him along the scant path. As he was there, swinging two and fro, with the thought of cannibalism or sacrifice creeping up on his mind, he turned his head over to Mal and Zoe, who fared no better. Their horses were being ridden by spare warriors. Spare savage warriors who were rummaging through saddle bags and mulling over objects whilst eating packed rations. "Um... I hate to ask, but... does anyone know what's going to happen to us or who the hell has captured us?"

The braves stole glances to the doctor. They began to talk in their own language.

"Well, they're Nez." Mal explained a matter of factly.

"There's a primitive race living in the mountains of Shadow?" He intoned shrewdly, eyes narrowed in thought.

"Sorta.... story is a settler back from the original pioneer had a sorta fascination with the injuns of earth-that-was. Decided ta start a tribe, found some folk fa-kuang enough to move up into the massif, called them the Nez, adopted an ancient language, went back ta nature with a rainbow of different tribal teachin's mixed together... and here be the Nez." Taking in a steadying breath, he continued. "Peaceful folk, no one goes up here so they don't change much, though if someone does they take what they want. Good horsemen too."

"So you've run into them before and can get us out of this?" Even Zoe watched Mal with some hope.

"Oh gawd no."

"I reckon half of that old campfire story is true, Sir." His second in command responded.

"Perhaps, but I left out the part where they turn into moose and kidnap children who don't eat their peas." He huffed dryly, noticing a brave taking interest in his coat. Suddenly, Mal became rather irked. "Hey! That's mine!"

Ignoring the captive, the Nez man slid on the jacket and smiled, enjoying his new fashion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were finally at the village.

Being hung like game, none of the captives had mapped out where they exactly were. From their view though, the village was archaic. Huts of wood and animal skins communed around fire pits. Women stretched and tanned hides, sewed, cooked and tended to the children, whilst men appeared to be building new huts and going out to hunt. The trio bound and suspended, were somewhat in awe at the life that had imprisoned them, for it was a level of pure basic existence none of them had come upon. Suddenly, they saw old space shuttles, wagons, hovercrafts and the like in front of a group of huts, being stripped so their parts could be made into weapons and the very traps that had snagged them. It could only be concluded that the vehicles had crashed or were prizes of previous abductions. Nonetheless the Nez were recycling quite well, and had incorporated the slice of metal into their natural lifestyle.

"So, according to your folk tales," Simon sighed in exasperation and fret "what are they going to do to us?"

"Reckon' take us to their chief."

"Seems ta be the case." Zoe gestured with her chin to the long house. They were taken inside, the long house warm from a fire as the talking of alien tongues filled their ears. Unable to see in front of them, when they finally stopped, they heard someone obviously give an order. Men came about, with bone knives, and slit the bindings on their legs. The prisoners falling backwards, they were spun around on the pole so they were facing the chief on their knees, and poles were slipped out and removed.

Mal looked up, and his jaw nearly hit the floor.

Zoe and Simon gazed up in the same fashion, and what their eyes beheld struck them dumb as well.

For there, seated a chair the Nez had clearly pilfered off of some poor wagon and then strapped antlers to the back as decoration, was the man they were looking for. Jayne Cob, dressed in fine buckskins, fringes all down the sides with beadwork coloring the hides in intricate fashion. He just had the bottoms though, for his hairy chest was in all its glory, and a necklace of grizzly claws and beads hung about his burly neck. Half his face was done up in red, white black and yellow paint, and atop his head was the biggest damn headdress of eagles feathers. They had shaved his facial hair though, so he looked to be one of their own.

There he was, Sachem Cobb.

The chieftain, saw who the prisoners were and returned a similar expression of disbelief. Simon, who was as round eyed and gape mouthed as the others, was the only one that had the mind power to say something. Regardless it was the only thing his addled mind could think of sputtering.

"You have got to be shitting me."

*** *** *** TRANSLATIONS/DEFINITIONS

A, zhe shi ke-ai: Oh, this is lovely

Cong kao: Cluster f***

Juniper: Cowboy slang; greenhorn, inexperianced

wu-yong jain-feng mao: worthless top hat

Nez: Part of the tribal name Nez Perce.

fa-kuang: crazy

*** *** **As always, the writer appreciates all comments whether they be positive, negative, or suggestions.**