Firefly is not mine. There's a nice long list of things I'd do with it if it was, starting with brining Wash back from the dead.

- - - - - -

III. Tangled

Inara refused to laugh at the dress. It was the antithesis of elegance, some small girl’s conception of a Companion’s clothing. Gaudy pink embroidery ran rampant over the bodice, while the sleeves were fluffy to the point of hindering arm movement. The milk white skirt looked as if it could cover Serenity’s back end.

“Kaylee,” Inara said, “I don’t think it suits the occasion.” Or any occasion, person, or animal that ever existed. “Try on the one I picked out.”

The mechanic looked down at her skirt. “It is awful hard to move in. If somethin’ comes up, I don’t think I could get any necessary work done on Serenity.” She turned back around to the fitting room, somehow squeezing the skirt inside.

Inara sighed and began to wander around, blankly looking at the wedding dresses displayed in the Triplex shop. Kaylee would be several minutes.

Life had been frustrating since she’d come back. She did what she could, cooked, consoled, chatted, gave advice, moved things, whatever useful task that she could find. But it wasn’t much. Miranda haunted her dreams, Mal’s grim eyes pulled at her heartstrings, and her uselessness was eating at her soul.

She stopped wandering, and wondered again why she had come back. He’d offered to drop her back at the training house. There were things by the hundreds she could do there, useful things.

It had been a last minute decision. Between Miranda and…Mal, she could admit it to herself now…she couldn’t live the same life anymore. How could she live as a Companion, loyal to the Guild that was loyal to the Alliance? How could she live…no, she couldn’t go there. That was a wall too long standing to tear down in an instant, and he didn’t trust her anyway.

And now Armen Chiasm had made an unwelcome reappearance in her life. He had sent her a wave shortly before Serenity left Persephone. He’d made an offer much like Atherton’s, but refusal could have much more terrible ramifications. Ramifications like Serenity being blown out of the sky by an Alliance cruiser.

Looking back, it had been infinitely stupid to become the favored Companion of a member of Parliament back on Sihnon.

“’Nara, that’d be a great dress for you!” Kaylee called.

Inara glanced at the window she stood in front of, where a mannequin stood in a sleek, sleeveless white silk bodice, with a red skirt billowing out elegantly. She stared at it for a moment, haunted by childhood dreams of a very different and perhaps happier life, and then turned to Kaylee with a smile. “That looks gorgeous on you.” Kaylee wore a very simple, adorable white dress, one that would allow her to move in a potential emergency. “I was thinking a pink bouquet…”

- - - - - -

After they traveled to a relatively rich slum, Mal and Jayne found the apartment building mentioned in Mike’s note. They used Mike’s name to get in and proceeded through a maze of halls until they reached a central room, where they were asked to wait. And wait is what they did for three gou tsao de hours.

The unpleasantness of the situation wasn’t helped by the fact that the building was nothing but barren concrete, without so much as a box to sit on. Mal had been through much worse, but it was just another little aggravation he didn’t need.

Mal glanced over at Jayne. For the better part of the wait, the mercenary had been sitting in a corner, on the floor, with a ten year old helping him read the Bible. At least he’d found something to keep him out of trouble.

Hopefully this would be quick. They needed that money to pay for repairs and food. And they needed to get away from this mess before the war caused the sky to fall down on them all over again.

He’d be damned if was going to drag people with so much in their futures into something noble and doomed like this mess. Zoë had already lost Wash to this same cause and she was now carrying his child. Simon and Kaylee had just announced their engagement. River had shaken off the ghosts that haunted her, finally beginning a life all her own. Jayne was Jayne, which didn’t really mean much as far as ‘potential’ went. Inara…

Mal didn’t understand Inara. He didn’t know why she stayed after Miranda, on a ship that was bound to hard times, with a crew about as uncouth as a pack of wild dogs, instead of going back to be a Companion. Whatever her reasons he was glad that she stayed, even though they bickered. Things seemed…more right, with Inara around. Missing rib, or something like that. He didn’t want her to get mixed up in a war, especially a war where she might have trouble choosing sides.

But the old cause still called to him. It had been calling since he had decided to show the ‘verse what had happened on Miranda. He could have run, but he didn’t. Why? The answer scared him. Maybe he’d started to hope again.

A soldierly teen boy appeared suddenly, grinning apologetically. “Sorry for the delay, Captain Reynolds. I’ll take you to the Admiral right away.”

- - - - - -

It was a most unremarkable half-sphere. No lights, no antennae, nothing but plain metal.

River smiled to herself. If it weren’t for the fact that it had been making her back itch for a week, she would say that it belonged on Serenity’s hull.

She flung it out into the busy docks, where it was crushed by the wheels of a large cargo hauler. River wasn’t clear on what the thing had been. Likely either some sort of latent sabotage instrument or a tracking device. Possibly, but not likely, a bizarre form of smuggling. The green eyes flashed in her mind. Whatever it had been, it was no longer a problem.

She climbed back down into the ship, quite content. It was very quiet today, with the Captain and Jayne off to finish the job and Inara and Kaylee out shopping. Zoë had stayed behind to watch over Simon and get her checkup. It was a pleasant change from the past few weeks.

Zoë was sitting outside the infirmary when River checked to see how it was going. Simon was nowhere to be seen; he was probably trying to catch up on his sleep, as he was not sleeping when he should be these days. “All clear?” River asked Zoë.

The older woman nodded. “Four months old.” She smiled fondly at a ghost. “I remember, after we robbed the bank…” She shook her head and looked directly at River, pragmatic and tough as ever. “Captain should get back soon. Things have been heating up, and it is worse here on the central planets.”

“And our job.”

There was a barely noticeable pause. “And that.”

River cocked her head. “You don’t worry about ‘that’.”

“I should.” Zoë sighed and stood. “Shouldn’t be long. I’m going to see about the cost of some decent food.”

River retrieved the notebook she’d hidden nearby as Zoë left. “The calm before the storm,” she muttered to herself, flipping to her most recent drawing.

She’d covered the page in pairs of cold green eyes.

- - - - - -

Mal was led into a large room and, apparently, a large meeting. “…salvage something from the Galileo, so help me,” a tall man was telling the rest of the group. He was much older than most of the people Mal had seen so far, older than Mal himself was by a few years, in fact. Both the man’s hair and eyes were the same steel gray. Everything about him was military: posture, stance, voice, presence, everything. All this seemed dimly familiar.

“You have jobs to do. Go do them,” the man finished. The meeting broke up, and he turned to Mal’s guide. “Thank you, Kash. See if you can help in communications. The signal hasn’t been holding steady.” When the young man left, the older one turned to Mal. “I don’t believe we ever met, Captain, as I was strictly a naval commander.” He held out a hand. “Sherman Hanson, Admiral to some.”

Mal shook the hand, remembering who exactly the man was. Admiral Hanson had been one of the Alliance’s before the war, but had defected and become the Independent’s best and only experienced naval commander. From what Mal could remember, he’d disappeared in the Battle of Sturges, assumed dead, like most of the others in that rout. “We gave the cargo to a few of your boys,” Mal said, “Did our part.”

Hanson nodded. He tossed a heavy, clinking bag to Mal, then sat behind a desk that was once a large shipping crate. “You probably know what kind of firepower was in that crate, knowing Mike’s honor code. I’d be much obliged if you didn’t even hint at its existence.”

Mike had indeed left a listing of the weapons being transported, but Mal didn’t see what was so impressive about the tiny collection. “Personal firearms, few flash-bangs, nothing particularly illegal in there. Alliance has worse problems.”

“And I thank you for that.” Mal blinked quickly in surprise. “It’s different in the Core. The worst problems are never fixed, just ignored, wounds left to fester. But when it comes to making people be ‘good’, as they define it, they’re willing to break people.” Hanson shook his head, pulling a battered shred of paper from the chaos that dominated the crate-desk. “So, what next for you and your ship?”

Mal started a bit at the question. “Well, this money will last us a bit. After, we’ll see what comes our way.”

“It’s going to be tough,” Hanson noted, “Your reputation precedes you and most of your more reliable friends are dead…though I can help you out.”

Mal knew everything Hanson said was true. Maybe it would be good to take another job from these new Browncoats. The money was good, and Mal’s other options were limited. He just had to make sure their involvement stayed professional. He didn’t ant to get tangled up in a spider’s web again. “You offering me a job?”

“I have a task I think your crew can handle.”

“What’s the pay?”

“Twelve thousand.”

That was the kind of offer couldn’t refuse. “You folk certainly do pay well. Must be important.”

“There’s a computer file that’s traveling with a Commander Synchis. He was in charge of the Galileo, but now he runs the major military base on Bellerophon. His duties involve attending large, expensive parties and seducing beautiful women. All the other details are in here.” He held up an envelope to Mal. “When you get the file, deliver it to Mike, who will meet you on Persephone. Then he’ll pay you.”

Mal glanced from envelope to man. “Just how much do you know about me?”

“You and your crew were responsible for the Miranda broadcast, a disruption at St. Lucy’s, and the escape of the Tam fugitives. Beyond that, I only know what veterans and criminals can tell.”

Mal snatched the envelope and left the complex quickly, grabbing Jayne on the way out, not entirely sure what he’d just gotten into.

Whatever it was, he could handle it. He had to. There wasn’t anything else.

- - - - - -

Hunter followed the Captain and his hired gun into their ship. They didn’t notice him, though the mercenary looked around nervously, as if he sensed something. Hunter made sure to keep his distance, even in the belly of Serenity.

The tracker had been removed earlier that day, but not soon enough to keep him from ship. Getting inside unnoticed had been a slight challenge.

He found Serenity to be a battered hulk inside and out. She was small and didn’t possess the computer systems found on newer ships, but he could fly her well enough once River Tam was eliminated.

Strange how quickly he gave it a name and a gender. Something about this heap of metal and ragtag engineering was endearing.

“River, set a course for Bellerophon,” the Captain called into an old intercom, “We’ve got a bit of thinking work ahead of us.”

“We’ll be ready in a minute,” a female voice answered. River Tam’s voice.

Hunter settled behind some crates. He’d strike in space, when they weren’t expecting it, and end his prey.