Viva Las Vegas? ----------------------------------- based on the world of Firefly by Joss Whedon

Four years ago approximately. .....

*** Carthage, a resort on Santo..... equivalent to "earth that was" Las Vegas. Want to get hitched and rich? That's where you went. Wanna find someone that doesn't want to be found? Well, where better to hide than in a place where crime always pays?

"She's your proof. All you need to do is get her to the Wed and Bed on Dixon Street at eleven pm tomorrow night. I've got the stuff to subdue her." The wave was choppy, but he had gotten the point. A living, breathing example of what the Alliance was doing, creating weapons by genetic splicing and she was here on this planet. Finally, he might be able to expose those purple bellies for who they really were...monsters and avenge the family, he had never wanted to lose. Maybe even get some peace.

"He's wanted for thievery, murdering of several officers, and a host of other crimes. We aren't sure where he is, but he was last seen in your present location, Carthage." The com link squawked as she let her creators talk on her next assignment. "You do this and we'll forget about your little transgression in Serenity Valley."

They had remind her again about that. Six years and still no peace, but if one life would make it go away, so be it. She could then learn more about her condition and how to control it, maybe even go back, if he would have her.

He had seen her in the bar, but stopped from approaching her. The bartender had offered him a drink and 'Ski knew he had time for at least one or two before closing in on her and the way the woman looked now, well, let's just say he had time. A dancing girl walked around him, her supple body reminding him he was still in fact a man, but it wouldn't happen for either of them tonight. He was working, and this was no ordinary job. 'Ski had to be on his toes. His hand absentmindedly rubbed the scar where they had replaced his humerus, and then took another swig of whatever they had give him. It burned going down, but the liquor in it relaxed his nerves. Three hours to go....

She watched as the couples danced and something in her wished she had a partner, which in turn made her think about him. Could he forgive her for what she did? They had lost the war, and many of the Independents were rounded and slaughtered to prove a point, which one seem to escape her. Mal and Zoe had hid with her, keeping a low profile, or at least trying to make Mal keep one. Finally, she couldn't control the monster that she could become and in the middle of the night, went out and killed a village full of people, the very one that had chosen to protect them. Mal had blamed the Alliance, but Zoe knew, Cat could tell by the way the dark woman stared at her. So, she went and made a bargain. Let Malcolm Reynolds and Zoe Alleyne go free and she would come back. Of course, her creators readily agreed.

Unfortunately, her memories of him didn't go away, in fact, they had intensified. She missed him, a totally new experience as was these emotions that kept attacking her at the wrong times. Compassion was the worst when you were the ultimate weapon, the one who wasn't suppose to feel sorry for the target. This one, though would be easy. His rap sheet sounded longer than hers, or it would if she had one. Of course, technically, she didn't exist and Cat liked it that way.

The music was too good to pass up as he walked over and offered her his hand. She had looked like she wanted to dance, and what better way to get on a girl's good side than offering her what she wanted. When her eyes stared up into his, he saw something dark there that lay buried, but it seem to pass as she let him lead her on the dance floor.

Almost immediately, 'Ski knew she was not ordinary. Where most found their own beat to the music, this woman actually conformed to it, her long sensual body flowing like water over a mirror, smooth and unhindered. He had been near dangerous women before, but this one had something none of the others had, his complete attention. Most would cause things to harden and thoughts to trip through his head until he had them. It sounded horrible, but 'Ski had gotten past attachments, there were things that weren't needed and things that would just end up dead in the long run. She could feel the music move through her, one with her blood and breath as her lithe body seemed hypnotized by each passing note. Others around her stopped what they were doing, women and men looking at the two of them dance. Cat flowed around the man who had offered his hand, knowing full well he was her target, but with eyes closed, her mind was on Mal.

They had never danced. The war was too much of a strain on them both for recreational purposes, making love in foxholes and sometimes a rarity was being able to lay under the stars before another bomb threatened death, yet, Cat had dreamed about what it would be like. Mal had been graceful when he wanted, a rare occasion, since his idea of a good time was a bar fight. Harden warriors weren't suppose to be gentle, he had told her, but when he made love to her, that all changed. Not that Mal couldn't fuck with the best of them, her body sore after a good romp in hell knows where because they hadn't had time to find a good place. She liked it though, when he took his time, to worship her body while she did the same to his. God, she missed him.

He pulled her to him when he figured the crowd had had enough and whispered in her ear. “You want to go somewhere quiet?”

“If I do, you'll wish you hadn't.” She played with the buttons on his shirt.

“That's what they all say.” He smiled at her and she could tell it was fake. Harden criminals might fool some, but not her. Still, she let him lead her away into a corner, where the shadows could cover and old band equipment could shelter them from the crowd.

“So you got a name,” he asked, but instead, she just drew closer to him. Her eyes cast toward his neck as she homed in on his jugular. A flash of something caught her eye, a chain that was unmistakable. With a quick swipe, she had it, but the man also had her hand. Looking from him to the tags, she smiled.

“And these are?” She asked. Cat knew they weren't military, but curiosity had still gotten the better of her. “Reason your wearing a dog's tags?”

“Yup, but it ain't your business,” he growled, this bitch touching what she didn't need to. “Now, let go, Alliance whore.”

“Alliance whore, huh? That what they teach you in Brown coat school.” She let the tags drop, but he didn't release her hand.

“At least we fought for what we believed in. Not some monster made from the leftover bits and pieces.” Cat's other hand fell to the man's groin, her fingers tightening on his ball sack. His eye's watered as she spoke. “You let go. I'll let go and then we can talk like civilized enemies.”

Digging his worn fingernails into her skin on last time, he released her as the promised removal of the hand on his balls was honored. “So how we going to do this?”

“Bar fight seems the going rate, at least that's what I hear. Someone gets killed and it's considered an accident.”

“Not in a place like this. Most here wouldn't know what a fist was except for satisfying your jollies.” He grinned at the statement he made and the woman actually smiled back.

“Name's Cat. You must be Werzbowski.”

“Most call me 'Ski. We getting cozy or something?”

“Let's just say I like to know a man's name before I kill him and I like the Devil to know who killed ya so he can thank me later.”

“Bit of a spitfire, aren't ya, Babe?”

“The name's Cat.” She spit.

“Alliance whores don't have names.” He snarled and the idea of killing him to clear her name got a little sweeter, except for the one problem. She had promised Mal that unless it was self defense, she would never lift her hand to harm another one of his brothers in arms again.

“You always this sweet or am I just lucky?” She shook her head. There had to be something honorable to this man. “Is it true you steal from townsfolk?”

“If Alliance has their hooks in them...”

“And the murder of officers?”

“They were after me first and what's the loss of a few purple bellies in the scheme of things.”

“And the other stuff?”

“Got to make a living, Babe.”

“So you here to kill me, I suspect?”

“Nope. Just looked like you needed to dance with someone and I figured I'd obliged you.”

“How did you know I was Alliance?” Cat asked.

“No one can move like you did on that floor without a bit of tinkering to the old mind and body. Only Alliance has the capabilities to do that.”

“Well, I was sent to kill you. Brought a lot of attention to yourself lately.” She might have been talking to him, but her eyes had found something interesting behind them.

“Things happen.” He turned to see what she was looking at as Cat went for a discarded microphone complete with cord. Using it like a whip, she flung it, the cord wrapping around the barrel of a shotgun pointed at 'Ski's back. It discharged, sending the bullet into the plaster behind her. Pulling the cord toward them, the man lost his hold on the gun as it came crashing to the floor.

“Guess I'm not the only one looking to kill ya.” She smiled and took off after the man with the gun, leaving 'Ski a bit confused. Cat pounced on him and the man uttered a single scream before she slit his throat. Strangely, no one seemed to care.

“She just saved my life.” He whispered to himself as he started off after her. “That bitch.”

After 'Ski had caught up with her, he had convinced her to come with him to the Wed and Bed. How he had done it, 'Ski would never know, but his conscience played with him the entire way. This Alliance whore had saved his life, something only one other person had done and he had at least been a Shepherd.

She looked to him again and let her mind play with the thoughts she had been having. The bullet could have killed him for her and then she could have in turn killed the bounty hunter claiming the prize. For some reason, she had just acted. Whatever this 'Ski was, something about him drew her and she wasn't leaving his side until she could figure this all out. Even if it meant going into a place where she knew he would turn on her.

The Wed and Bed could be considered one of the best places in all of Carthage not to get hitched. It was old and run down, with curtains that had once been white, now yellow from the smokers who frequented them. The receptionist was an older woman, her hair frosted with age. At one time, she could have been pretty, but a love for booze and wild life had left only a shell. Her teeth matched the curtains as she flashed 'Ski a welcoming grin. “Welcome to the Wed and Bed. Weddings are fifty dollars, Beds are ten an hour or thirty a night depending on how long your pecker can go...what will it be for the happy couple?”

“You always take me to the nicest places.” Cat swooned before returning to her normal self. Her eyes ran over the small chapel, if you could call it that. An equally old man sat in the corner, his snores enough to raise the dead. A white collar wrapped around his neck and if you weren't looking right, you would swear it was part of the rope that hung him.

“I need...” 'Ski started, but then hesitated for a second. He turned to watch as Cat combed the rest of the room, just staring at the old paintings. Flashes of her watching the dancers, then her on the dance floor and finally, the way she had pounced on his would be killer flooded his mind. He had a choice...become her ally or turn her into a sideshow puppet. The latter would serve her right, being a purple belly and all.

She fidgeted with her shirt, a bug must have bitten her and as she lifted her sleeve to scratch, 'Ski caught sight of a tattoo. There were several who had made it out of Serenity Valley, and several had stood out among the heroes for the Independents. One had been himself, the others were a group that had kept the Alliance at bay while the rest had escaped. Rumors were the Sergeant there was accompanied by a woman, who's most distinguishing feature was a black cat with green eyes and the number 13 ghosted over it. 'Ski was staring at it.

“I need a wedding.” He thought fast, the men waiting for him outside for the prize. They had never seen him or Cat, he hoped and there was only one way out of here without looking like you were running. Cat caught what he said and turned on a dime. “You need a what?”

“You're marrying me.” “Don't I get a choice? I mean not to sound bad, but you're not the person I'd pick.”

“I came here with the intention of selling you off. Plans changed, but they are waiting outside that door. So, marry me or face them. All I know is they have something to make you peaceable so they can crate ya and put ya on display.”

“How much?” She growled, slapping fifty on the table. “How much was I worth?”

“Twenty thousand and my record wipe clean.”

“I'll get you that twenty thousand and your record gone, but you have to do something for me.”

“What?”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Kiss your bride or rent one of our rooms for cheap price.” The old man grinned, several teeth missing.

“Thanks, but I think we're good.” Cat smiled as she stuffed the marriage certificate into her pocket. As much as she wished it weren't true, the wedding was legal. How would she ever explain this one away.

“So you ever gonna tell me why you didn't let that asshole kill me?” Her new husband stated next to her

“The day you tell me what changed your mind.”

“So we're good then?”

“As long as you remember our deal.”

'Ski groaned, but smiled at her. “How could I forget?”

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Don't forget to read “Origin of Werzbowski” by Werzbowski for more info on 'Ski and leave some feedback. He won't bite....much. :))

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