The groans and creaks of entry still echoed through Serenity’s hull as she settled planetside for the first time in nearly three months. “Kaylee, you comin’?” Mal hollered into the engine room as he headed for the rear stairwell, River in tow. “Keep your pansy-pants on, Cap’n. Gimme half a chance to get her powered down.” River tittered behind him. “That ‘pansy-pants’ gou shi gonna get real old real fast.” He hustled down the stairs to the common area where the rest of the crew waited. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Paquin,” he announced. “As soon as our mechanic gets down here, I’ll fill y’all in on the plans.” Kaylee skittered down the stairs a few moments later, wiping a sleeve across her sweat and grease-stained brow. “’Bout time,” Mal eyed her as she passed. She glared back at him and threw herself on the couch next to Simon. Instantly she was her overly cheerful self again. “Okay, so here’s how it is. I know this is the ‘verse’s playground and such, but we are not here to play. We’re here to find work. I don’t think I have to remind you what we all went through. The Alliance could be lurkin’ round any corner. I don’t ‘spect them to show up this far out in the boonies, but no sense in riskin’ it. So, no shore leave.” Groans, mainly from Jayne and Kaylee, erupted. Mal held up a hand to still them. “Complain all you want. Ain’t happenin’. No one leaves the ship without my or Zoe’s express permission, and even then not by themselves. We’re set down on the edge of town where the meet with our contact’ll take place tonight. It’ll be Jayne, River, and myself. Zoe, you’ll have the ship.” A mildly surprised look settled on Zoe. She was not used to being left behind. “Sir, are you sure?” “Yes I am. You hold the fort.” Zoe folded her arms, a clear gesture that she did not approve, but she did not question Mal’s decision either. Her face darkened. “In the meantime, there’s chores to be done. I want lists of any supplies we might need so we can get ‘em ‘fore we depart. That’s all.” Mal dismissed them. They drifted to do their respective tasks, except Inara. She hovered, out of place, until she was left alone with Mal. “Um, what do you want me to do, Mal?” she asked, demure. “You know Serenity well enough and what needs done. You can find somethin’, or go help someone else out.” Inara’s eyes turned downward, disappointed. She started to head out. “Tell you the truth," Mal went on, "I half-thought you might be meetin’ some clients. Paquin’s your kind ‘a world.” She stopped. “I… I thought about it, but I don’t have a shuttle anymore.” “Oh… that’s right. Heh, just gotten so used to….” Mal blundered to a halt. Inara had been a presence so long on Serenity that he forgot her circumstances right now were less than ideal for carrying out her business. “So, been in touch with the training house yet?” he attempted to change subjects. Inara blushed. “I haven’t. I still haven’t decided.” “Uh-huh. Well, when you do, just let me know. I don’t mind makin’ a stop for you, you know.” Mal felt heat rising up his neck to his cheeks as well. Inara gave a half-embarrassed, half-guilty nod and quickly exited the commons which had grown uncomfortably warm all of a sudden. Mal shook away the awkwardness and got about his duties as well. -No! Stop!- But her body would not listen. She grabbed the wrist as it thrust the knife forward, twisted, and guided it into the other attacker coming from behind. His mouth opened in a scream, but she heard nothing. They were all around, and they were the enemy. -No they’re not!- She was shrieking with all her might, but she did not obey. Spinning, her boot connected with the knife man’s face. Blood and saliva sprayed. It should have been too dark to see it, but every droplet stood out to her hypersensitive vision. A gun came at her next and she dodged to the side, grabbing the arm connected to it. The weapon fired, aimed expertly at another of the enemy hiding behind her. Still in control of the gun-arm, she lashed a kick into an oncoming attacker’s chest. The owner of the gun-arm swung at her with his free fist, but she ducked and landed a punch in his gut. Her elbow connected with his nose and she spun away, wrenching the firearm from the hand’s grasp and planting a ferocious roundhouse kick to the head in one smooth move. The enemy were all defeated except for one. The gun was in her hand, aimed at the last, who also had a firearm trained on her from above. It was a standoff. Suddenly Simon appeared from the darkness. -Simon! Help me!- His lips formed silent words. Blackness swirled and she was falling down, down, down. The darkness drew her under and she screamed. “Hey, you awake down there?” River shot up in her bed, gasping. Sweat soaked her chest. She drew her knees up and clasped her head between trembling hands. “River?” she recognized the captain’s voice. She recognized she was in her bunk. She remembered she had gone to bed, unused to being up so late in the day. And then the dreams came again. She had to swallow several times to get enough lubrication for her vocal cords to work. “I’m awake,” her reply was still just a croak. “Well get yourself movin’, ‘fore I leave without you.” “Yes, sir,” her reply was stronger, but far from steady. She hurried to the sink and soaked her face in the cold water, letting the shock of it run the dream images from her mind. Toweling off, she stopped, catching a glimpse in the tiny mirror. Haunted eyes with dark circles beneath them stared back from a gaunt face, still pale from the terror of the nightmare. For a second she did not recognize her reflection. In that brief space, she swore she saw someone else. The other person shared her features, but the eyes were hard, emotionless. There was no trace of softness to the lips. Just a cold line without compassion. The shorter hair accentuated these traits. It was a face that knew killing and death, and gave neither a second thought. She turned away from the mirror, afraid of it, afraid to see it appear again. She tore off her sweater and bra and, soaking the towel under the faucet, wiped the stickiness from her chest. Goosebumps quickly stood out on her naked torso. She scrubbed her face down next, almost violently. The friction and cold brought her mind closer to normal. She used her discarded sweater to dry off and shuffled through the drawers beneath her bed for a new outfit. Pawing through, she pulled out a dark blue, almost violet dress with a sheer lace overlay. The moment she looked at it, the dream invaded her mind again. Gasping, she dropped the piece of clothing and backed away like it was deadly poison. Shaking and breathing hard, she remembered. She had been wearing that dress in the dream. She had been wearing it on Miranda. All sorts of unpleasant images bubbled up. Wash, Simon, the Reavers. With sudden, seething anger she snatched the dress from the floor and tore it with her bare hands. She ripped the cloth as her mind tried to rip the memories from her consciousness. In a few seconds, it was over. She was breathing hard, and the dress was nothing more than scraps on the floor. She stared at them for a few seconds, surprised by her extreme reaction. She gathered up the pieces and threw them into the refuse chute. Searching her drawers again, she came up with another dress, this one a silvery-gray and sleeveless. She slipped off her skirt, put on a clean set of undergarments, and slid the dress over her head. She found one of Inara’s old robes that she had kept, silver and green, and threw that on as a cover. Then she dashed up her ladder, eager to escape from her room and its overabundance of bad memories. Jayne, Mal, and River descended the loading ramp and into the deepening twilight of Paquin. The waning light of the ruddy protostar Heinlein set the sky alight in reds and lavenders in some places, bruised violet and deep purple in others. The system's distant primary star, Zhu Que- "Red Phoenix," was already at some elevation above the eastern horizon. It shone with a bright red glow but provided little in the way of ambient light. Simon watched the three figures disappear into shadows as they strode towards the little town, its lights just beginning to come up. He heaved a sigh. Kaylee slipped next to him and wrapped her arm around his waist. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine. The cap’n’ll take care of her. He means it this time.” Simon grunted and smiled without mirth. “I remember what happened the last time you said that.” “Well things is different now.” She turned him to face her, draping her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss. “I know. But I can’t help worrying. I’ve been doing it for so long. I don’t think I know how to not worry about her.” “Well, perhaps I can help take your mind off it a little,” she said, sweet and seductive, pressing closer to him. She drew his lips down into a much longer, deeper kiss. His eyes closed as he tasted her lips. His hand reached around the small of her back and squeezed her tight. She made a little growling sound in her throat. Then he broke away slowly. “Mmm,” Kaylee grinned, eyes still shut. When she opened them, though, Simon was looking off into the darkness where the figures had disappeared. “Simon,” Kaylee turned his chin towards her. “I know. I’m sorry. I guess it’s just…” he trailed off, eyes apologetic. Kaylee sighed and moved away a little. “Kaylee…” “No, I understand,” she said, trying but failing to keep all of the disappointment from her voice. “It’s just, I thought we could spend some time together. Alone, you know. You wouldn’t have to worry about River… or anything.” “I’m sorry,” his eyes wandered to her shoes. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I’ll try,” he said, raising his eyes to hers again. “I won’t worry. Promise,” he crossed his heart and smiled. Kaylee shrugged and gave him half a smile. He looked out again, this time at the velvet sky, stars starting to appear in its creases. “How about this. Let’s sit outside and watch the sun set. I’ll get some food, you get the wine, and we’ll have a little romantic dinner right out here.” “Really?” Kaylee pepped up. “Really.” “Okay. But you get the wine,” she poked Simon in the chest. “I’ll make the food.” “Deal,” he grinned. He offered her his arm and they strode side by side back into the cargo bay. River’s eyes darted to and fro about the town, which was rather bustling for such a small backwater. People shuffled here and there, occasionally jostling her if she was not paying attention. Their thoughts also jostled her and she struggled with them, trying not to hear the jumbled mental conversations. “River,” Mal took her arm and drew her close to him. “You okay?” he leaned near her ear. She nodded. “I’m fine. Just a lot of noise.” Mal regarded her skeptically. “I’m fine,” she reiterated confidently. They paused in the street. Jayne looked up and down its length. “Where we headed?” “Over there,” Mal jerked his chin towards a somewhat squalid, one-story building, squished between two equally squalid taller buildings. A faded, dirty sign proclaimed it The Elephant’s Tusk in both English and Chinese characters. The characterization of the establishment’s namesake animal made River believe the artist had never seen an elephant in his or her life. The three headed in that direction. “Remember, we don’t use our names,” Mal spoke to both of them. “If anyone asks, I’m Captain Bill Roberts, and our ship is the Roberts’ Fortune.” “O’ course you get to name the ship after yourself,” Jayne complained. “It don’t matter. It ain’t real anyways. If no one asks, don’t worry about it. But in case they do, you gotta know what to say.” Jayne shrugged. “Anyhow, Jayne, you go by Jim and River’ll be…” “Ariel,” River interjected. Jayne scowled at her. “Now why’d you go an’ choose that name?” He spat to one side. “I done apologized already for that.” “Not the planet,” River clarified. “Ariel. The air spirit, imprisoned in a tree, freed by Prospero and wanting to serve,” she gave Mal a poignant look. “It fits.” “Who?” Jayne asked. She tossed him a lopsided grin. “Besides, Ariel is a boy’s name.” “It is?” She kept smiling, and Jayne finally grinned in return. “Well, all right then… Ariel.” With mock chivalry, Jayne held open the door allowing River to step delicately through. Mal followed right behind them. The floor of The Elephant’s Tusk was below ground level and they descended a small set of stairs to reach it. Mal took in the scene. It was already fairly crowded, folk milling about at the tables and starting to line the bar. Behind it was a stocky man with a shiny bald pate ringed by short black hair. Innumerable stains decorated his once white apron. “This way.” Mal led River and Jayne towards the bar. They pulled up stools a little ways down from the nearest patron. Mal folded his arms on the countertop and waited. Jayne glanced around, but River sensed the alertness beneath his casual action. He was taking in the room, the people, and all the ways in or out, assessing possible threats and dangers. River did the same thing, figuring it made good sense. Maybe Jayne had never read Shakespeare, but he knew his way around a barroom brawl or two hundred. The bartender finally sauntered their way. “What’ll it be, folks?” “Hi, Ving.” Ving stared a second at Mal before recognition struck. “Hey, Mal!” he smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Shhh!” Mal hissed. “Don’t use my name. Don’t want anyone other n’ you to recognize me. I’m Roberts. Captain Bill Roberts.” “Oh, got it… Bill,” he issued a sly smile and a wink. “These yours?” he nodded to Jayne and River. “Yeah. Jim and Ariel.” Ving’s gaze lingered over River, and she found an extremely odd sensation creeping over her. She realized the bartender found her attractive and was wondering about her…” she turned away and tried to focus on something else. She was repulsed and did not want to see any more of his thoughts. “Didn’t know you had a daughter, Mal… er, Bill.” “She’s not. New pilot.” “Pilot?” Ving leaned back, hands on his portly sides. “She barely looks old enough t’ be outta grammar school.” “She’s a real prodigy,” Mal stated. “Hmph. So, what happened to that fella Wash you had last time?” Ving asked. A heavy silence settled on the three. River felt the sadness creeping up that was always there whenever Wash’s name was mentioned. She had not been close to him, but everyone else on the crew had. She felt his absence through them just as acutely as if it was her own. “Job went bad,” Mal answered, which was as close to the truth as anything. Ving’s smile disappeared as he understood. “Oh, sorry. I thought Zoe seemed a bit harder ‘n usual. How’s she takin’ it?” Mal shrugged. “Well, my condolences,” Ving offered. “So, what’ll it be?” he asked again. “Whiskey,” said Mal. “Here, too,” Jayne concurred. Ving’s eyes went expectantly to River. She turned back to him once she felt his attention on her. “Oh, um… I don’t really…” she looked down at the legs of her stool. “She’ll be fine,” Mal answered for her. “Oh come on, Mal,” Jayne cut in. “She ain’t never had a drink before. Let her have at least one.” Jayne proclaimed it like it was some sort terrible punishment that River had never tasted alcohol and should be denied the opportunity now. “It’s Bill,” Mal emphasized with a glare. “Sorry, Bill,” Jayne corrected. Mal looked at River. “Okay, fine. One,” he emphasized to Jayne, holding up a finger. “Shiny,” Jayne flashed a devilish grin at River. “She’ll have a whiskey, too.” “Three whiskeys,” Ving repeated and head down the bar. Jayne grinned at River a little longer and chuckled to himself. River felt apprehensive about the whole thing. Jayne only got that look when he was about some mischief. Ving returned with three small glasses of the brownish liquid. River picked up her glass slowly and scrutinized it. “It’s whiskey, girl. You know what whiskey is?” “Yes,” she answered, still staring at it. “Well, lookin’ at it don’t do nothing for you. You gotta drink it. But you gotta do it right, see?” She watched Jayne demonstrate. “You gotta take it down in one swallow, like this.” Throwing his head back, Jayne dumped the liquid into his mouth and swallowed. He slammed his glass on the bar and hissed, eyes squinty. “Now that’s good whiskey.” He turned to River with that impish grin again. “Your turn.” Hesitant, River studied her drink again. “Well, c’mon. You gotta drink the first one ‘fore you get another,” Jayne pressed. “Ja… I mean, Jim,” Mal cautioned, his own glass still full. “Aw, Cap’n. She’s gotta try it,” Jayne smiled loosely. Mal shook his head and downed his glass as well. Feeling Jayne’s expectant eyes on her, River finally gave in to the pressure. Tilting her head back, she paused with the glass in the air, then poured the whiskey into her mouth. As soon as she swallowed, the liquid turned to fire and burned her gullet all the way down. Eyes wide, she gasped and began coughing and retching, clutching at her throat. Jayne laughed. “That a girl!” He pounded her on the back which made her eyes water even more than they already were. “It burns!” she rasped, staring incredulously at Jayne. How had he not been affected by it? “It’s ‘sposed to,” Jayne confirmed. “You get used to it.” River coughed some more, surprised by the very strange, hot feeling in her belly. It was still burning even inside her. She doubted she ever wanted to get used to that. “There you go. Now you had your first drink, you want another?” “No!” she said emphatically. “Come on. Ain’t doin’ you no good to sit around at a bar n’ not drink.” “If she don’t want to, she don’t have to,” Mal defended her. “I know,” Jayne agreed. “I ain’t tryin’ to make you if you don’t want. But maybe you try somethin’ else and you’ll like it,” Jayne persuaded. River eyed him. “See, that’s the spirit,” he took her look for a yes. “Barkeep!” he hollered. “So how’d you like it?” Ving asked, grinning. River shook her head and made a face. Ving laughed. “Let’s try somethin’ less pow’rful. What you got that’s girly-tastin’?” “Got some flavored rums. Mix ‘em with tonic water and a little sugar and they’re smooth and sweet as frosting on cake,” he looked from Jayne to River. “How ‘bout it?” Jayne asked. “Okay,” River relented. “Comin’ up,” Ving called. “An’ another whiskey for me!” Jayne shouted to his back. Simon and Kaylee had finished their frozen protein mush dinner and lounged in chairs next to each other. They each had a glass of wine, the jug resting beneath them on the ramp. Night on Paquin had truly fallen, though the colors of twilight lingered on the very edge of the western horizon. Kaylee snaked her hand across the space between them and intertwined it with Simon’s. “You know,” Simon started, eyes on the tiny, distant orb of Red Sun, “if it weren’t for helioforming technology, this would be just a rock of ice. Instead, we got a beautiful planet, with a beautiful sunset, that I got to share with a beautiful woman.” His face cracked into a silly little grin. He was feeling a little warm from the wine. “Awww, that’s sweet,” Kaylee rolled her head towards him, beaming. “See, you can relax and be a sweetheart.” “Though it might just be the wine talking,” he added. It was true, though, that he had probably gone at least a half hour without worrying about River. A strange noise reached his ears. He perked his head up. It sounded like hooves. “What’s that?” Kaylee asked, hearing it, too. Simon set his glass down and heaved himself out of the chair, feeling a temporary giddiness in his knees from the alcohol. Kaylee joined him a second later. The noise approached, slow and steady, but it was not until it was close enough to be illuminated by Serenity’s interior lights that they could make out what it was. Kaylee gasped a little in surprise and delight. An old-fashioned gypsy-style caravan plodded past them. There were four wagons in all, each drawn by a huge draft horse. The cloth covers of each wagon were a patchwork of bright colors and patterns, seeming without any purpose other than to be highly visible. “Now isn’t that shiny?” Kaylee said taking a sip of her wine. “What’s out there?” Zoe’s voice startled the two. “Oh, Zoe, it’s a gypsy caravan. Look!” Kaylee’s delight did not spread to Zoe. She took in the passing caravan with her usual stoic reserve. There were a few groups of people trailing behind it, and Zoe considered them with a soldier’s wary eye. They looked like regular folk. She saw no weapons present on anyone. Her stance relaxed a little, hand dropping away from the butt of her gun. “Oh, I gotta go get Inara. She’ll wanna see this. Be right back!” Kaylee set her glass down and skipped off to find the Companion. Simon went back to his chair and picked up his glass. Taking a sip, he looked at Zoe through the curve of the bowl. She was silent, closed, watching the caravan but not really seeing it. For the first time, he saw the hollowness in her eyes. Sharp pangs of sadness and guilt struck his chest. She had been little more distant recently, but he thought that was normal. After all, she had lost her husband in a rather violent manner. Now he saw that the distance hid a pain that was just below the surface. He wished he had paid more attention. He wished even more that he could say something to help take it away. Zoe had steadfastly refused most every attempt by anyone to comfort her, even the captain. He hoped she was finding a way to deal with it on her own. “Look at ‘em, Inara,” Kaylee bounced back onto the ramp, dragging Inara by the arm. “Ain’t they gorgeous?” “They are very pretty,” Inara agreed. The wagons all stopped by this time, forming a little semi-circle. A few of the occupants milled about, tending the horses and such, while more regular folk seemed to be drifting in. “Wonder what they’re doin’?” Kaylee asked. An orange flare lit their faces and suddenly a fire sprang to life. A couple figures piled on some wood, and it soon became a roaring blaze. The regular folk crowded around it, talking jovially and generally seeming to enjoy themselves. “Maybe they’ll tell stories and such,” Kaylee suggested. She was clearly enthused by the whole idea. “I don’t know. Maybe,” Simon murmured, but he found his curiosity engaged as well. “Wanna go?” she turned to Simon with eagerness. “Huh?” “Wanna go down an’ see what they’re up to?” “Kaylee,” Zoe cautioned. “Aww, come on, Zo. It ain’t more’n ten meters from the ship. You could watch us from here.” Zoe issued a sigh that was almost a growl. “Fine.” “Shiny! Let’s go.” She took her wine glass in one hand and Simon in the other and walked them towards the growing crowd. Zoe crossed her arms, nearly scowling. Then, in resignation, she dropped her arms and flopped into Kaylee’s empty chair. “Might as well get comfortable,” she grumbled. “Mind if I join you?” Inara asked. Zoe motioned towards Simon’s empty chair and Inara filled it. As Simon and Kaylee got closer, they noticed people were taking seats on the bare ground around the fire. Standing in front of the wagons were, what they presumed, the gypsies. Their clothes were simple and no different from the audience, a sharp contrast to their gaudy wagons. Instrument started to appear and the sounds of tuning drifted over the crowd. “Oh, they’re gonna play for us!” Kaylee hissed. She found a spot near the front and dragged Simon down with her. She looked over each of the players, pointing out their instruments with childish delight. A piper, chipmunk-cheeked and sporting dreadlocks down to his waist, warmed up with some trills and scales. Two guitarists sat on stools near the back, leaning over their strings and tuning pegs. A hand drummer absently thumped random rhythms. A fiddle player, the only woman of the group, ran her bow gently over the strings, tuning each one as she held the instrument beneath her chin. A second piper, his long dark hair a crazy bush of curls, blew into something that looked and sounded like bagpipes. “Why’s that guy wearin’ a skirt?” Kaylee whispered to Simon. “I think it’s a kilt,” Simon corrected. “A what?” “A kilt. It’s an ancient style of dress, worn by the Scottish people back on Earth-that-was.” “It looks like a skirt,” Kaylee sniggered a little. “It basically is. But…” Simon shrugged. As the random tuning noises died away, the crowd subdued, as if on cue. The dreadlocked piper stepped forward into the light of the fire. “Much thanks for comin’ out to see us tonight,” he welcomed everyone with a quiet, gravelly voice. Please, sit back and enjoy our show.” That was the extent of his introduction. He stepped back in line with the other musicians. Glancing to either side, he raised his flute and the band joined in on cue. It was a simple, mournful tune they played, carried by the lilting of the flute and the drone of the bagpipes. The drummer stayed silent, the guitarists only strumming with the chord changes. The fiddle blended with the timbre of the bagpipes so the two were almost indistinguishable. The effect the audience was immediate. There were no words, but the music spoke of memories. Perhaps it was the ancient melody, but it aroused more than just personal remembrances. It was history. There was a whole life in the song. Not just one, but many. Innumerable lives lived and died. It was a longing, an ache for things past and gone, but not forgotten. The crowd hushed and listened, wrapped in the music and their own emotions. The song itself did not last long, barely two minutes. But in those two minutes, every man and woman listening had taken a journey through time into their past. The few seconds silence after the band finished attested to the music’s power. A log popped loudly in the fire and stirred some from their reverie. Polite clapping ensued. “That was…” Kaylee trailed off. “Sad,” Simon finished for her after a space. “Yeah. Sad. But not sad like crying sad. Sad like…” she could not find the words to finish. She shivered and drew closer to Simon. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned back into his chest. Mal had lost track of how many drinks Jayne and River each had. Jayne was still mostly coherent, but it was clear River was well on her way to getting drunk for the first time in her life. However, she was laughing and smiling in a carefree way that Mal had never, ever seen in the girl. It was almost scary. What was even scarier, though, was that she and Jayne were behaving like best pals. He supposed alcohol could work miracles if it could make those two get along. Mal took a sip of his drink, enjoying the flavor and the sting of the alcohol. He would incur Simon’s wrath when he brought River back, but seeing her now would make it worthwhile. He did not have the heart to take this pleasure away from her. Ving wandered his direction and leaned over the bar so he could speak close to Mal’s ear. The place was packed now, and a band had even shown up and begun to entertain the patrons. This was the first time Ving had gotten a break in the action to speak with him. “So, lookin’ for work?” Ving surmised. Mal nodded. “As long as it’s payin’ and it ain’t near the Core, we’re interested.” “Still stayin’ out of the Alliance’s way?” “If I can help it.” Mal took another drink. “All right. I checked around and I think I got somethin’ that might interest you.” Mal listened. “There’s this local casino owner. Runs the Trilogy, a bunch of floating gambling houses out on the ocean. He’s got four of ‘em.” “Anybody tell him four ain’t a trilogy?” Mal remarked. Ving held up his hands. “I don’t ask. Anyhow, the big boys didn’t want no small time up-and-comer spoilin’ their neighborhood and runnin’ off their Core world clientele. They wouldn’t give him a permit to build in the city, so he built a boat instead. Also, didn’t care much for the hoity-toities and big fish from the Core. Focused on attractin’ the well-to-do on the Border and the average John Q. Citizen. Soon he’s got enough for another boat, and another. Some of those big fish start migratin’ his way. That gets the big boys’ attention. So they declare war and do everything legal and elsewise to make his life di yu. He’s tough, though. Got muscle and support of a lot o’ the locals. Pays ‘em well that works for him. Got loyalty.” “So what’s the job?” “The big boys got the ear o’ the local politicians, so they got his shipments all taped up. Takin’ weeks to sort through the forms and such. He needs someone who can slip through. Someone not local.” “Sounds do-able,” Mal nodded. “You up for it, then?” “Yeah, I’m in.” “All right. He’s gonna wanna meet’cha so he knows who he’s dealin’ with.” “Can you set it up?” “Will do.” “Thanks, Ving. This guy got a name?” “Everyone just calls ‘im the gangster of boats.” -Gangster of boats?- Mal shook his head and took another drink. The band wrapped up another number to the raucous applause of the bar crowd. “Thank y’all very much!” the leader shouted into the microphone. “Wow, what a great crowd! Tell ya what, let’s spice things up a bit. Any y’all out there musicians, come on up here. We’ll have ya sit in for a song or two. Come on up!” the he invited the crowd with a sweep of his hand. “Jayne, you play guitar. You should go,” River encouraged. “Aw, I don’ know. I ain’t never played with no band before, or in front of a crowd like this.” He turned to his glass and drained another shot. River stared at him, a defiant expression growing. “Come on, Jayne,” she grabbed his arm and bodily tugged him off his stool. “Hey, watch it!” River paid his protests no heed and dragged him through the crowd towards the stage. “Now hold on a second. I never said I’d do this.” “You’re going to play,” River shouted back over the noise. She shoved him up to the edge of the stage. He stumbled forward, throwing a displeased glare back at her. “Evenin’ mister. You wanna join in?” the band leader asked Jayne. Jayne hesitantly glanced at River one more time. She smiled encouraginly, if a little off kilter from the alcohol. “Uh, I guess so,” Jayne shrugged. “Shiny. Come on up here,” he offered a hand and helped the big mercenary up to the stage. “What’d ya play?” “Um, guitar, I guess.” “Acoustic, electrified?” “Acoustic,” Jayne’s eyes were darting over the thronging crowd, a little fear creeping into them. “Here ya go,” the band leader thrust a battered dreadnought into his arms. Taking Jayne by the shoulder, he led him into a little ring with the rest of the band. “Guys, this here’s…” “Uh, Jay… Jim. I’m Jim,” Jayne managed to remember his alias just in time. “Jim. Okay, Jim. So, what you wanna play?” “Uh, I don’t really know. I ain’t played in a while, an’ never with a band.” “S’ no problem,” the leader assured. “How ‘bout this one,” the drummer offered a suggestion. It was a traditional song, a bawdy favorite that Jayne actually did know. “Sound good?” “Yeah, I know it. But I don’t know…” “Relax, Jim,” the band leader clapped him on the back. “We’ll start, an’ you jus’ join in whenever you feel like. Okay?” He returned to the microphone, leaving Jayne still a little dumbstruck. “All right!” he shouted, recapturing the crowd’s attention. “We got Jim up here with us,” the leader extended a hand towards Jayne, “and he’s gonna help us out on a little tune that I think y’all know.” The crowd applauded. The leader swung on his own guitar and smiled loosely at Jayne. “One… two… three… four…” The song began with a reverse strum by the twelve-string player and a steady thump from the kick drum. The crowd roared and cheered in recognition. The band leader and picked out a melody over the chord while the bass player held the bottom line. They went through the main phrase twice before Jayne joined in, adding his guitar to the melody line. River saw how nervous he was at first, but he quickly settled into the rhythm of the song. People around her were stomping their feet and clapping to the driving pulse of the drum. Smiling, River joined in with them. The song shifted into a louder section with the drummer doing some fills and the electric guitar player screeching out some distorted chords. The crowd roared louder. Then it descended into another quiet passage, a little more free form, where the electric player coaxed out a mellow solo. The main melody returned and carried the song again. River was fascinated by Jayne’s fingers as they danced over the fretboard. He was loose and smiling now, sharing grins with the other band members. It was an odd juxtaposition to see the guitar, looking delicate in his huge arms, and yet hear the beautiful noises he called forth. River found a new notch of respect developing for him. The song came to a close with a repeat of the chorus phrase that built in speed and intensity and ended with a crash. The crowd cheered their approval, and River heartily contributed. Jayne nodded his thanks, face cracked from ear to ear with a smile. The leader motioned him over to another meeting with the band. After a few seconds, the huddle broke apart. “Jim’s gonna do one more with us,” the leader proclaimed. “So how ‘bout some warm thanks. Jim!” Jayne received a rousing round of applause. In the darkness she could not be sure, but River thought she actually saw him blush. “Okay, this is another one you know,” the band leader began his introduction. “It’s an old one, but I don’t think you’ve heard it like this before.” The leader and the other guitarist had exchanged their acoustics for fiddles, while the keyboard player, who had been offstage for the last song, rejoined the group. “Okay, here we go!” the leader shouted. A rising synthesized line and crashing introduction of drums and bass led off the song. They were unfamiliar at first, but as soon as the fiddles jumped in with the melody, uproarious applause ensued. River instantly recognized the song, a traditional classic hundreds of years old from times on Earth-that-was. However, as the full band kicked in, she realized she had never heard it played like this before. It bounced and rocked and swung. Its energy surged into the crowd. Out of nowhere, someone in the crowd grabbed her elbow and flung her into a spinning promenade. Momentarily terrified, she quickly realized she had been caught up in a group that started to dance. Laughing wildly, she allowed herself to be swept up in the dancing. It was a simple country hoedown- stomping feet, clapping hands, slapping knees, and lots of bouncing and spinning on her toes. The old impulses, the freedom and joy she had always felt when dancing surged through her for the first time in she could not remember how long. Faces whirled by as she passed from one dancer to the next. They were all smiling, all completely wrapped up in the movements as she was. It was beautiful. The dancing halted for a moment to watch the musicians as each took on a spotlight solo. The fiddle players dueled with each other before resolving into a common theme which the whole band expounded on. Then the keyboardist took his shot with a dazzling series of runs and chords. Finally, Jayne stepped forward. His fingers flashed across the strings, plucking out an impossibly fast melody over just the bass and drums. River laughed and clapped, nothing short of impressed by the man’s talent. The rest of the band rejoined with the pre-chorus phrase and extended it just a little longer, building the energy to bursting. River hurled herself into the renewed dancing, unaware that the crowd had left a small space for her. Her hair and her dress swirled around her as she leaped and twirled, only stopping when the music came to an explosive end. The crowd voiced its enthusiastic appreciation once more with hoots and cheers. Out of breath and dizzy, River found strangers coming up to her, shaking her hand and complimenting her on her dance. Mildly embarrassed and more than a little drunk, she smiled shyly. Then room was starting to tilt a little too much for her to keep her balance. Fortunately, before she tumbled sideways, Jayne appeared and threw his arm around her. “Damn, girl! I didn’ know you could dance like that!” “I didn’ know you could play like that,” she replied, words slurring. Her lips and tongue did not want to move quite right for some reason. It did not matter though. She was happy. Jayne led her back to the bar where she was grateful to find her stool waiting. “D’ya see that, Mal?” Jayne asked, forgetting the captain’s alias again. “Yeah, I saw it,” Mal had a slight smile for her. “Here, one on the house for each o’ ya,” Ving slid two drinks their way. “Them’s the last ones,” Mal said. “Aw, man. We’s jus’ startin’ to have fun.” “We gotta get back some time.” Jayne muttered something unpleasant that Mal could not hear. He turned to River and held up his glass in salute. River did the same, though she wobbled a little and had to grab the edge of the bar to steady herself. They downed their drinks together. “C’mon. Let’s go.” Mal rose and laid some bills on the counter. Jayne did the same. “I gotcha covered,” he said to River without looking at her. Any other time she would have protested his charity, but she was too woozy to comprehend at this point. As it was, he had to help her off the stool. She was giggling and clinging to him as he weaved behind Mal through the crowd and towards the door. Somewhere in her alcohol-impaired brain, she realized that she was not hearing the voices. The thoughts of the crowd were not intruding into her mind as they normally would. She gave thanks for that as much as she was able. It was nice to be alone in her head for once. She stumbled out into the night, arm in arm with Jayne. The gypsies started into another song, this one also a sad tune. The flute player turned to a wooden whistle, its low, hollow keening the perfect vehicle to set the mood. The drummer entered next with a simple, syncopated beat that never wavered throughout. The guitarists joined in, playing a complex fingerstyle pattern at the introduction before descending into chords for the verse. The flautist sang first, his rough-edged voice not exactly musical, but not unpleasant, either. After the first verse, the female violinist added her voice in harmony. By contrast, it was sweet and pure. Somehow it fit with the natural, plaintive timbre of the flautist, complementing it perfectly. The song spoke of memories once again, this time of an old sailor, his prime long past and life at an end. As he recalled all that life had given and taken from him, he was preparing for his final voyage. It was a bittersweet story as the old man accepted his fate with both regret and hope. It ended the way it began, with the whistle fading down to silence, leaving only the drum to beat on alone. Simon sat in silence, touched by the song and alone with his thoughts. Against him, Kaylee rested, breathing steadily. She was asleep. The clapping of the audience started her awake, though, and she sat up and stretched. “Sorry,” she turned to him with a yawn. “Guess the wine’s takin’ hold,” she offered a slight smile. “Yes,” Simon murmured. He was also feeling drowsy from the wine, but contemplative as well. He wondered why all the songs the gypsies had played were so sad or regretful. “Thank y’all again for your attendance,” the flautist announced. “It’s been a pleasure. If you’ve enjoyed the show, there’ll be some of us comin’ around so you can show your ‘preciation. Thank you.” Simon saw two of the gypsies wandering through the crowd with hats in hand. Every so often, someone from the audience would drop something in. Simon realized this was how they lived, traveling and performing, collecting what they could from their audiences. “Did you enjoy the show?” a pleasant female voice asked him. The fiddler stood before them. By the firelight, Simon saw her features were sharp and well-defined. She had a rather pointed nose and thin lips that nevertheless gave her a warm smile. Her blue-green eyes were the color of shallow seas, offset by long tresses of deep, deep auburn hair. She was attractive in a very natural sort of way. “Oh, it was lovely!” Kaylee volunteered. “You sing so beautifully,” she added with a hint of pining. “Thank you,” the woman replied. Simon looked at the hat in her hand and felt embarrassed that he had no money. He really wanted to give something. He untangled himself from Kaylee and rose. “Um, I’ll be right back, miss. I just want to go get something…” he pointed towards Serenity, with a look at her hat. She smiled again, also with a hint of embarrassment. Simon headed off. “That is your ship?” the woman asked Kaylee. “Yep. She’s my girl.” “You’re captain?” “Oh… no!” Kaylee laughed. “I’m just her mechanic.” “Ah. Have you been to many worlds?” “Oh, everywhere,” Kaylee waved her hand. “Mostly on the Border and the Rim. Tend to stay out o’ the Core. Cap’n don’t much care for dealin’ with the Alliance.” Kaylee snapped her mouth shut, not sure she should have spoken that last sentence. She covered her slip-up with a big smile. “That’s wonderful. I’ve never been much farther than this.” “That’s the way I was, too, before I joined her crew.” “When do you leave?” Kaylee was not at all put off by the woman’s curiosity. “Two or three days, I reckon. Wherever and whenever the work takes us. Oh, here comes Simon,” she spotted him trotting towards them. He pulled some money out of his pocket and shoved it into the hat. “It was a… a very lovely concert,” he said with some awkwardness. “Thank you very much,” the woman smiled gratefully. “Have a pleasant night, sir, miss.” She nodded to each of them and continued her round. “She’s nice, and so pretty,” Kaylee commented. “Simon, am I that pretty?” “Yes, you are,” Simon did not hesitate. Kaylee beamed and gave him a big kiss on the lips. Then she yawned. “I think it’s time for bed,” Simon said in response. “Zoe didn’t look like she wanted to babysit us any longer.” “Mmmm. You gonna tuck me in?” Kaylee asked. “Of course,” he thumbed her nose and smiled. Zoe slouched alone in the chair. Simon and Kaylee had promptly sequestered themselves in Simon’s room once they returned. Not long after, Inara quietly folded up her chair and disappeared as well. The gypsies’ fire was just glowing embers now, and all of their audience had long since headed for home. She stared out into the silence, the occasional insect noise the only thing disturbing the night. Until the voices interrupted. She stood up, gun hand at the ready. They sounded rowdy, laughing much too loudly to be sober. She steeled herself for trouble. Out of the blackness Mal faded into being. The tension left her instantly. “We’re back. I’m gonna button her up for the night,” Mal said, climbing the ramp. “Roger that, sir,” she responded. “But where’s…” She stopped cold when she beheld the sight before her. Emerging from the night, Jayne and River were laughing hysterically and practically falling all over each other as they stumbled aboard the ship. She had to rub her eyes to be sure she was seeing clearly. Mal was operating the ramp controls and watching the two with a bemused smile. “Sir?” she stared at him with all manner of questions in that one word. “They had a little too much to drink. Especially that one,” he pointed to River. “We jus’ had ourselves a good time, didn’ we Ariel?” Jayne announced loudly. River nodded, still laughing too hard to speak. “Ariel?” Zoe threw another questing look at Mal. He just shook his head a little. “What’s going on out here?” Simon appeared in his pyjamas and stopped to take in the incredible scene. “Simon!” River shouted with glee, tried to run towards him, stumbled and fell. She broke into another fit of hysterics, Jayne joining her. “River, are you okay? What on earth…” he knelt next to her. His face screwed up as he got close, smelling the reek of alcohol. “Are you…” He spun to Mal. “Is she drunk?” he demanded. “Just a little bit,” Mal smiled. “I can’t believe this! You let her drink while you were out there!?" “Hey now, Doc. Back off some,” Jayne intruded, trying to conjure up an intimidating tone. “She’s had a good time. Was dancin’ n’ everythin’. Didn’ know she could dance like that.” “You let her drink with Jayne!?” Simon’s incredulity shot up several notches. “What’s all the fussin’?” Kaylee stumbled out from the passenger area, also in her pyjamas. “Jayne’s right. She had a good time. I ain’t never seen her havin’ so much fun and enjoyin’ herself as tonight. Maybe you oughta let her out more,” Mal suggested. “Do you have any idea what could have happened?” Simon fairly shouted at Mal. By this time Inara appeared as well, taking in the commotion from the common area doorway. “Well, nothin’ did,” Mal’s tone harkened the end of the discussion. “Now, it’s late, and we all should get some shut-eye. Tomorrow might be a busy day. Go on, now.” He shooed them out of the hold. Simon glared daggers at Mal as he helped River up and guided her towards the infirmary. Kaylee came to assist. “What happened?” she asked, their conversation trailing out of hearing as they left the hold. Jayne headed for his quarters as well, going up the foredeck stairs. “G’night, y’all,” he hollered to no one in particular. “So…” Zoe turned to Mal after all the commotion died. “Got us a prospect. Ving’s gonna set up a meet with the client. Should hear from him by tomorrow.” He headed for the stairs as well. “You should get yourself some rest, too,” he ordered her as he climbed out of sight. She sighed heavily and followed after the captain. Each night Zoe hoped it would be different. Each night it was the same- put it off as long as possible. Sometimes she wandered down into the hold. Sometimes she sat in the mess. Tonight, she was on the bridge. She stood by the window, eyes on one of Paquin’s moons. Her dark hands absently stroked one of the dinosaurs, now since permanently attached to the console. She ran her fingers over the hard plastic, hoping maybe to find some remnants of his touch lingering on them so she could feel him once more. She stopped herself, realizing the futility. There was nothing here. She turned on her heel and silently made her way to her room. Climbing down, she closed the hatch, undressed, and laid her body on the bed. The lights went out, but the images in her mind still ran deep. The entire ship was full of memories that never left her alone. And as bad as the bridge was, her bunk was much worse. The sheets still smelled like him, but the emptiness beside her was all too present, a painful manifestation of what was inside. She rolled onto her back, eyes glassy. She wanted to pull the covers up over her head, curl into a ball, and cry. But she had too much pride for that. So she just lay there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep. Unable to do anything else, she pictured Wash- the sandy blond hair, bright Hawaiian shirts, the easy smile, and most of all, that laugh. She wanted to capture anything that would make her remember what he was like, link some of those memories to the happiness she once felt. But that feeling was gone. Only pain remained, and nothing could cover it. Sleep was a long time in coming.

gou shi- dog crap di yu- hell