Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss. I got nada but my imagination. Characters: Crew, omc, ofc. Warning: PG for graphic violence, profanity and other grownup things. Setting: In the town of Silverton, on Santo, immediately prior to “The Train Job”. Words: 2,206

A/N: As a kid, my two favorite TV genres were westerns and detective shows. I finally decided to tackle both in a mix I’ve thought of as “Firefly CSI”. Click my name to access the previous chapters. If you’re following this tale, I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, and if you’re enjoying it, please pimp it to your friends. Thanks!

X - posted from my LiveJournal.

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Presumption of Guilt Chapter Eleven

Garvey, Mal and Shepherd Book stood in the darkness outside Dwight Powers’ home, watching as Doc Bailey and two of the deputies loaded the dead man’s body into the back of the doc’s battered old flyer for transport back to the doctor’s office.

As the vehicle powered away, Mal contemplated the complex events of the past few days. “Looks like this ties up a lot of loose ends.” He scratched thoughtfully at the corner of his mouth, then shared his thoughts with Silverton’s sheriff. “Max, seein’ as you’ve got ample evidence Jayne Cobb’s not your murderer, why not cut the man loose? It’d be a kindness, seein’ as he’s been sittin’ in your jail these past four days, and would free up me an’ my crew up to get on about our business.”

Garvey sighed deeply. He was suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue and sat down on the front step of Power’s porch. The situation was nowhere as clear-cut as his browncoated friend imagined. He took out his pipe and loaded it from the leather pouch he carried, tamped the fragrant tobacco with his middle finger and considered how to respond to Mal’s request.

“See, “ he drawled, lighting the pipe, “it’s like this…”

Ai ya! Mal thought. Here it comes. Why can’t things ever go smooth?

“Like I’ve told you, Captain, there are one helluva lot of folks around here thought highly of Nellie Murchison, her faults not withstanding, and want to see her killer punished. Far as they know, your man is still the obvious suspect.” Garvey took another drag on his pipe. “They’ve seen the three of us together,” he glanced at the other two men, “ and are already suspectin’ I’m somehow in collusion with you. If I’m to have any hope of maintainin’ my authority and keepin’ the peace around here, it seems to me we’d best go through the motions of a trial tomorrow.”

Seeing Mal’s scowl, the sheriff continued. “See – if Justice Howery hears the evidence and sets the charge aside himself, folks’ll respect his decision and we won’t have to worry about any sort of uproar afterwards. Besides,” his face grew smug, “You know damn well Murchison’ll be present for the hearing and I’ll have the perfect opportunity to take him into custody.” A satisfied grin spread across Garvey’s lined face.

Mal and Book studied at one another and Book replied, “Much as I hate for the boy to have to go through the motions of a trial, Mal, I think our friend the Sheriff has a very sound point.”

The captain shook his head. “Best explain all this to Jayne before court tomorrow morning’, Preacher. No point in makin’ it worse for him that it’s already been. We don’t need him actin’ stupider than usual.”

“Okay, then – let’s call it a night, men,” Garvey declared. “I’m beat.”

* * *

Having given up hope of getting to know Simon Tam more intimately that evening, Kaylee sighed and headed up the aft stairs to check in on ‘her girl’, as she thought of Serenity. Firefly class vessels had been designed as transports and made even better ships for smuggling, especially when retrofitted as Mal had Serenity, but the older vessel’s atmo and other life support systems always struggled when she was grounded. Kaylee figured it was just because Serenity was happier in the Black.

Dusty worlds like Santo were the worst. Once again she set the ventilation system on back-flow to clear the filters of the grit and fine sand carried into the ship on the wind and people’s clothes and boots. As the atmo drivers shuddered to a stop and began to wind up in reverse, she concluded that was all she needed to take care of for the evening and that she might as well turn in. Humming to herself, she wandered through the dining area and up the forward hall to her bunk.

As she passed the hatch to Jayne’s cabin, she thought about the big mercenary, across town in Silverton’s jail, lying on that thin, hard bunk, and realized how empty the ship seemed with him absent. She stopped and laid her hand on the steel and said a little prayer in the hope that Shepherd Book would be successful in freeing Jayne. The mercenary had been ruder to her than usual since they’d taken on the Tams at Persephone, but the girl had a sense of fairness a mile wide and it troubled her to think he’d been unjustly accused.

Toeing in her own hatch a few steps further up the passageway, she scooted down the ladder into her haven and smiled at the small, cozy space she’d filled with all manner of cheerful things. In the Black, a body needed as much cheerin’ as possible. She brushed her teeth at the tiny, retractable sink, then quickly stripped to her unders and crawled under the brightly colored quilt that draped her bunk, switched off her reading light, and was asleep in minutes.

* * *

Well after midnight, Mal and Shepherd Book climbed Serenity’s ramp in the waning light of Santo’s setting moons. Mal auto-locked the ramp door and clapped Book on the shoulder. “Been one helluva day. Let’s us get some sleep.” He headed toward the stairs before turning to ask over his shoulder, “What time is Jayne’s arraignment scheduled for tomorrow?”

“Nine sharp, son,” Book replied from across the hold. “I’d like to get there plenty early and have a word with Jayne before court begins. Best we leave about 7:30, I think.”

Mal nodded. “Zo and I’ll be ready.”

He turned and trudged up the stairs, yawning as he went up the fore hall and onto the ship’s bridge. There he found Zoe curled in the pilot’s chair, an old army blanket bundled around her. At the sound of his step, she roused herself. “Welcome back, sir. Nothing to report. It’s been dead quiet here – well, except for the girl havin’ another screamin’ fit.” She immediately took in Mal’s fatigue. “Looks like you had a rough evening.”

“Ain't that the gorramned truth!” Mal dropped heavily into the co-pilot’s seat and proceeded to recount the evening’s startling events. Finally, he thumbed toward the crew quarters. “Seein’ as we gotta be up and outta here bright and early, why don’t you head on back to your husband an’ I’ll take over up here.”

Zoe knew better than to argue with him, and Mal was grateful when she just nodded and handed him the blanket on her way out. He knew that sleep would not come easily and preferred to spend the coming hours on the bridge, rather than in the stifling confines of his bunk. Here, Serenity’s viewscreen offered glimpses of the Black and where there were stars, there was hope.

* * *

In the silence of Serenity’s passenger dorm, the good doctor Tam tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Had he made a terrible mistake in abducting his sister from the Academy? At the time, it seemed the only possible way of saving her, but now, in the long night-cycle hours, he wondered. Now they were wanted fugitives aboard a junker of a spacecraft, amidst a crew of thieves and murderers, and had already seen worlds more primitive than Simon could have imagined two months before.

From time to time, he could hear River cry out in her sleep, but her sedation was heavy enough he didn’t feel he needed to rise and check on her. It was strange how at times she seemed to speak in riddles, at other times pure gibberish. He prized the rare moments when she was lucid, almost like the brilliant, bratty little sister he remembered.

This evening she’d been obsessed with some violent inner vision and had muttered on and on about bloody brothers and gold, gradually becoming more agitated and hysterical until he’d decided to sedate her for her own wellbeing. Never would he admit that this also saved him the distress of seeing her in such a state.

Rolling onto his side, he pulled the covers higher about his shoulders against the cool night-cycle air, and continued his thoughts about the ship’s crew.

The Companion, Inara, had been kind and gracious, although Simon failed to understand why a woman of such high station would associate with the crew of Serenity. It seemed that Shepherd Book meant well enough, although he was clearly possessed of skills not usually associated with members of the clergy.

And then there was Kaylee. Adept with machinery in a way that was unfathomable to Simon, she was unlike any woman the young doctor had ever known. Cute, effervescent and openly flirtatious, but clearly not cultured or well educated. Amidst so many strangers, her warmth made her instantly appealing – and therein lay the problem.

River’s state was fragile and ever changing. He found it necessary to draw on every bit of medical skill he possessed, sifting through hundred of pages of psychiatric and pharmacological research on the Cortex to come up with drug mixtures that helped to stabilize her mind. Worse yet, her body appeared to be capable of altering its own chemistry so that no drug cocktail worked well for very long.

His first and foremost loyalty was to his sister; he was all she had. He had no desire to offend or hurt Kaylee but the truth remained – he had no time for romance. Not while his sister needed him.

* * *

Early the following morning, Serenity’s common area was filled with the smell of fresh, strong coffee and jasmine tea and baking. Zoe hauled a pan of muffins out of the galley’s tiny oven and dumped then into a basket before passing it across the counter to Wash, who took one and blew on it before placing the basket on the wide table.

Inara was still wrapped in her dressing gown, dark hair soft over her shoulders. She inhaled the floral essence of the tea. Satisfied that it had brewed long enough, the Companion poured it into cups and handed one to Mal and another to Wash. Shepherd Book filled a battered blue enameled cup with steaming coffee and passed the pot to Kaylee, who filled two others. Keeping one for herself, she passed the second to Zoe.

“Where’s our doctor this mornin?” Mal asked, glancing around and noting Simon’s absence.

Kaylee shrugged. “Probably still sleepin’. River gave him a rare fit last night, screamin’ all kind a craziness about blood and gold.” The little mechanic rested her curvy hip against the corner of the table. Eyeing the muffins, she took one and sipped gingerly at her steaming coffee. “Finally had to knock her out.”

“And none too soon,” Wash agreed, shaking his tawny head in disbelief. “He says she’s getting a little better, but if that’s the case, I’d hate to see how she started out before he froze her.”

Book looked at Mal. “Why not let him rest, Captain? We won’t need him to testify. Doc Bailey will be covering all the physical findings in his autopsy report.”

“Suits me. The truth be known, I’d just as soon not have the boy around, seein’ as we’re goin’ up before a Federal Justice known for his tetchiness. Let’s finish up here,” he urged the others and tossed his tea back like a shot of whisky, oblivious to Inara’s grimace. “You got all your notes, Shepherd?”

Book nodded.

“Can I come, Cap’n?” Kaylee asked, quickly snitching another muffin. “Jayne’s my friend and I really wanna be there for ‘im.”

“Not this time, Mèi-mei. Much as we’re thinkin’ all this will go easy-peasy, there’s always the chance it won’t, so I want you and Wash both here on the boat, makin’ sure we can haul ass if it comes to that. Keep her hot, y’hear?” He and Zoe shared a knowing glance and she quickly checked her sidearm before sliding the weapon back into its holster.

“Who knows what sorta surprises this day’ll hold.” Mal waved at his second and Book and headed for the aft stairs. “We’ve had more’n our share already.”

* * *

When the threesome neared the jail, Book gestured at the bundle of clean clothing he carried. “I thought it very thoughtful that Kaylee was willing to sort through Jayne’s things to find some reasonably presentable clothes – anything other than the T-shirts and cargo pants the boy usually favors. I hope they let him shave, too… I’ll fill him in on what to expect this morning, then join back up with you at the courthouse.” “Might as well make the big yeti as presentable as possible,” Zoe noted.

Mal nodded. “Can’t hurt none. See you in court, preacher.” He and Zoe headed toward the courthouse and he glanced at Zoe, solemn and focused beside him, her long strides matching his own. “We got any work lined up, once we can get ourselves off this rock?”

“Not yet, sir. Been kinda hard to commit to anything, seein’ as we haven’t known when this business with Jayne might all be over.”

“Well,” Mal asserted, “the cupboard’s gettin’ bare and the fuel cells are runnin’ dry, so we’d best get crackin’ on findin’ some work, dong ma?”

To be continued… 11 0f 13