title: A Devil's Deal

author: nancy

fandom: Firefly

series: Another Life

Rating: R

pairings:

feedback: yes, please!

email: the_tenth_muse1@yahoo.com

website: http://www.geocities.com/the_tenth_muse1/

disclaimer: not mine, never will be, not making any money from this, gorram it!

WARNINGS: I haven't listed any pairings yet, because I have no idea who's going to wind up with whom, aside from Zoe/Wash. sorry guys, but they just go together - like John Crighton and Aeryn Sun, or Michael and Nikita. occasionally, I have the odd compulsion to see a
het couple exactly as they're meant to be. Zoe and Wash are one such case. also, serious non-con issues here, despite the strange non-violence of this story so far.

Summary: Simon gets on the wrong ship and things go seriously downhill from there...for everyone.

so ok. this, too, is in response to Juli's evil challenge on the Firefly_slash list. *big grin* expect more in the coming weeks because this isn't going away ANY time soon. <points to Juli> blame
her! ;o)

Cai bu shi = yeah, right

A Devil's Deal - Part 1
by Nancy

It was a bad idea and Mal knew it, even as he watched the space station get closer through the front window. But there really wasn't any other way around it.

"Sir, it's a bad idea."

And there she was, right on cue. The voice of his conscience, such as it was, personified. Looking away from the ominous station looming closer, Mal said evenly, "No choice. He's the most powerful man in the nearest five quadrants and we need as much money from this haul as we can get."

"He's also the scummiest man in the nearest five quadrants."

It was about as agitated as he'd seen her in a long time. Zoe's lips were actually pursed into a frown and there was a definite furrow to her brow. With an inward sigh, he repeated, "No choice. Besides which, personal habits don't enter into this, as unlikable as they are. This is business."

"He has slaves. Sir."

Mal near to squirmed under the accusing glare from his First, but managed to hold steady. "No, he has indentureds, there's a difference."

"Near enough to make no difference."

The harsh statement was all Mal got as Zoe stalked out of the cockpit, braids swinging with the force of her discontent. They were red this week, which told him that he was on dangerous, very thin ground with her. Purple was good. Purple was a violence that could usually be channeled into some kind of profit. Blue was usually a nice change because a depressed Zoe, was a quiet Zoe. Natural hadn't been seen since the war and when it made a reappearance, Mal would know that he'd lost her to whatever love had entered her life. Not that he actually expected that to happen.

No one but Mal got close enough to make any impression and he sure as hell wasn't going that way with her. Too much history between them for that ever to be viable.

Flipping on the docking sequence, he sighed and steered towards the hatch Usher had pre-assigned to them. They could barely keep themselves fed and flying as it was. If it weren't for Kaylee's magic with Serenity, that last would be impossible.

Contemplating red as the color of the ancient berserkers, Mal wondered if maybe he should leave Zoe behind on this run. It wasn't as though he'd need her there. If Usher decided to kill him, there wasn't anything Zoe would be able to do given the small but deadly security force the fence employed. Not bringing her had the advantage of not worrying that she'd see one of those poor souls that were `indentured' and try to free them without the benefit of money. It had the added benefit of being out from under the discomfiting glares that she kept sending his way.

"Zoe, why don't you sit this one out?" he asked over the comm system.

"Not a chance, Sir."

Damn.

Serenity latched onto the station with a quiet thud that reverberated through the small ship. Of course, she was only small in comparison to the station, which was pretty much a floating mansion of space stations. There were five other berths, all filled with ships; an atrium that provided real fruit and vegetables; sleeping quarters for the crew and sleeping quarters for the guests, not to mention Usher's own private section which Mal had no intention ever of seeing the inside of, if at all humanly possible.

Shutting down the engines took a few more minutes, and at the last second, he left them at low. Comming the engine room, he said, "I'm leaving her ready to go, Kaylee. I don't expect trouble, but why don't you come on up here and be ready to leave, just in case."

"Will do, Cap'n!"

He smiled at the cheerful voice, couldn't help it really. Kaylee was like a breath of fresh air in the tin can he called home, and he blessed the luck that had brought her to him. Actually, he blessed her consistent bad choice in men, because if she hadn't been screwing the previous mechanic, they'd never have met. That was something that didn't bear thinking on because sometimes, Mal suspected that without Kaylee, he and Zoe would've gone well off the straight and narrow path that they had somehow remained upon.

Relatively speaking, of course.

Getting up, Mal left the cockpit and passed Kaylee on the way to the cargo bay. She gave him a jaunty salute and a wink, which he returned. The good humor lasted only as long as it took to get to the bay where Zoe waited, armed to the teeth. Arching an eyebrow at her, Mal commented, "Not exactly a show of good faith, there, Zoe."

"I'm showing exactly what I believe in, Sir."

Squinting at her for a moment, he said, "They're going to confiscate the weapons and I ain't got the money to replace `em. Leave most of them here."

Displeased, Zoe nonetheless kept her opinion of that to herself as she approached the hatch. "Kaylee? Come on down here and gather the weapons I'm leaving by the door for me, would you?" Zoe asked.

Mal watched as she set down gun after gun after knife after...num-chuk? How on earth could she hide all that on her person without looking about fifty pounds heavier?

There was a pause, then, "Sure, Zoe. Be right down."

Which could have been her way of arming Kaylee in the first place, since the mechanic wouldn't carry a weapon. Shrugging to himself, Mal reached for the hatch, but pulled his hand back at Zoe's glare and stepped aside. Zoe opened the hatch and looked around the other side before stepping through.

Mal followed her into a fairly large corridor where a handful of armed soldiers stood. At their front was a big man, well muscled, with close-cropped brown hair and a goatee and mustache combination. The eyes were as hard as his body as the security chief stood forward and ordered, "This way."

Mal nodded silently, surprised that they weren't going to be searched for weapons, and fell into step behind the big man, Zoe right at his shoulder. If Usher was going to take him out as competition, which Mal was seriously hoping not, Zoe would protect him to her last.

The trip through the station was pretty long, but mostly in a straight line. It wouldn't be at all difficult to find their way out. They stopped at a set of double doors, expensive wooden ones
Mal noted.

"Go on through," the security chief ordered. "He's waitin' on you. Do yourselves a favor and keep it short and sweet. Another deal fell through earlier and he's been taking it out on everyone else."

Startled by the advice, but appreciating it, Mal said, "Thanks."

The dark haired man nodded then motioned the other guards to leave before opening the door and preceding Mal and Zoe in. He walked across the lavish room, long legs making short work of the trip, and announced, "Captain Reynolds and first mate, Sir."

Usher looked at them from across a large, fancy and wooden desk, pale eyes looking almost colorless in the light. He was slight, but wiry, tall and lean. Mal again sensed a darkness behind those innocent-looking features that never failed to put a shiver down his spine. "Afternoon, Usher."

"Reynolds," Usher replied, a faint smile gracing his lips. "It's been a time, hasn't it?"

Mal took the seat in front of the desk as offered, and felt somewhat better when Zoe stood just behind him, at the shoulder. Her presence was always solid, comforting. He noticed that the security chief didn't take up the same stance with Usher, instead standing discreetly to the side. "It has. Long time. Hopefully, we can change that."

Usher nodded. "I agree. I looked over your proposal and found it quite intriguing. If you can keep to the scheduled jobs, this will be quite profitable for us both."

That's what Mal was aiming for. Keep Serenity profitable enough to Usher that he didn't have her blown to pieces, and them all aboard at the time. "My own line of thinking."

"I assume that you'll need some front money to get that ship of yours in good condition and to find a decent pilot. No offense."

Mal smiled thinly. "None taken. I'm not the world's best pilot and'll be the first to agree with that."

"How much are we talking here?"

"Around ten large."

"I can probably come up with three, on the spot."

"If I'm going to be flying around radar, I'll need a stellar pilot, not to mention shielding and the like. Can't do it for less than eight."

"Really? But I heard that mechanic of yours is a genius with things metal."

Mal's gut tightened and he felt Zoe shift uneasily, though the movement wouldn't be noticeable to anyone else. That right there had been a definite threat. "She's not too bad, keeps us flying. Though of course she's only as good as the parts she can scrounge."

"And parts like you need are expensive."

"That they are."

"All right. If I dig deep, I can probably come up with five and let this not too bad mechanic rifle through my spare parts."

"Done and done," Mal agreed instantly. It was more than he'd expected, to be honest.

Usher held out a hand and Mal took it without hesitation. "Now that the formalities are out of the way, how about a drink to toast a successful venture?"

Nodding, Mal leaned back in his chair, relaxing slightly as Usher pressed a button. A moment later, a side door opened and a man came out bearing a tray. Mal's eyes drifted over the servant and it was in that moment a shock ran through him. It wasn't that he knew the man, not at all, but he knew the class. Though his clothing was plain and his eyes downcast, the bearing was too straight, the manner too polite, to be anything but upper crust, total highborn.

That knowledge made him look more closely, though he kept a relaxed posture as he did so. Tall and slender, similar in build to Usher himself, though he didn't look near as strong, the man had fine, brown hair and aristocratic features. His movements were efficient and graceful as he placed the glasses on the desk between Mal and Usher. Dark eyes briefly met Mal's and in them he saw a staggering array of despair, rebellion, and intelligence. As though the man knew perfectly well how to escape but, for a potent reason, wouldn't. This wasn't no indentured servant, this man was a slave, though not resigned to his fate...not yet.

"I see you've noticed my favorite pet," Usher commented with a smile.

He lifted the glass to his lips and Mal picked up his own to drink from. Echoing the smile, though it pained him to do so, Mal agreed, "Hard to miss. Good quality there."

Usher snagged the man's belt before he could retreat and drew him onto his lap. "Say hello, Simon."

"Good afternoon, Captain Reynolds. I hope you've had a productive meeting."

A soft, soothing voice to go with the soft, gentle manner. For some reason, the way Usher held too tight to the man stiffened Mal's spine. He maintained the smile, though, and replied, "We did at that."

"I'm happy to hear that. Times are hard for most. May I go, Sir?"Usher's smile was unpleasant as he contemplated the request, but at the last, he nodded and shoved Simon away.

Mal forced himself to keep smiling, all the while internally planning a justifiable homicide.

Usher met his eyes just then and paused, like he sensed the mayhem buried in their depths. "Perhaps you'd like to get better acquainted with Simon."

The stiffening of Simon's back as he reached the side door and stopped there, told Mal a lot. "Well, it's a temptation to be sure, but there's things that need doing. Maybe another time."

Nodding, Usher said, "Be sure and let me know when you're ready to leave."

"I will," Mal agreed, standing. "We'll be back for those parts just as soon as my girl gives us a shopping list."

A mocking smile crossed Usher's face as he asked, "Not sending the mechanical genius herself?"

"She'll be too busy working to go hunting for parts," Mal replied easily.

The security chief again preceded them, this time out of the room and back towards Serenity. Halfway back, Mal asked, "Simon seems a bit...out of place hereabouts."

Cold eyes flicked over Mal and the man replied shortly, "Doc'd be out of place anywhere but society, and that's a fact."

Doctor? There was a right interesting piece of information. "That's about what I figured. He and Usher been together long?"

But the security chief didn't answer, instead maintaining silence and a stone-dead expression. They arrived at the hatch only a few moments later and it was with great relief that Mal entered Serenity and heard Zoe lock it behind him. Breathing heavy, as though he'd just swum through waste, which wasn't too far off the track really, Mal looked at his First and said, "You were right, but I don't want to hear another word about it."

There was a slight nod as she replied, "No, Sir."

"All the ducks in a row, Cap'n?" Kaylee's light voice asked over the comm.

Mal ran his hand, which was shaking, through his hair and muttered, "Not hardly."

"Sir?"

"Yeah, Kaylee, the deal's set," Mal answered, louder. "Make up a list of what we need to get Serenity ship shape and then some. Usher's giving us a mostly expenses-paid shopping trip."

"Right away, Sir!"

Glancing back at Zoe, he saw that she was itching to say something and sighed. "Go ahead."

"That boy don't belong there, Mal. You weren't watching the Chief, but when Usher pushed him hard like that, the man near about drew his gun," Zoe informed him. "Seemed to me it was a deliberate provocation on Usher's part, too."

Well. And wasn't that another bit of interesting information? Thoughtful, Mal commented, "Simon's a curious puzzle, no doubting that. But it's not one we're going to solve."

There was a faint lifting to Zoe's eyebrow as she replied, "No, Sir. It didn't seem like you were the least bit interested in doing so. Not at all."

Cai bu shi, he thought, irritated. Sometimes, most times come to think about it, he really wished that Zoe didn't know him so well.

A Devil's Deal - Part 2

The braids were a magenta, not quite red, not quite purple, as Mal and Zoe entered a bar dedicated to the pilots on the fringe. It was a loud place, boisterous and filled with laughing men and women who cared for nothing except the metal machines under their command. Lucky Lucy's was well known, notorious really, as a hangout for the truly insane pilots, who also happened to be the best.

Mal wondered vaguely why it was that being the best brought about such a high rate of mental instability, no matter what the field.

Going to the bar counter, he took a stool and flagged down the bartender at the other end. She grinned at him and waved back, then returned to her conversation. Arching an eyebrow, he looked over at Zoe to find her gaze centered elsewhere. Following her look, Mal spied a redheaded man in an excruciatingly loud shirt holding court over a bunch of the pilots with wild gestures and almost comic expressions. "Someone you know?"

Zoe shook her head. "No, Sir."

"Why the interest, then?"

Meeting his eyes, Zoe observed, "Seems to me that anyone who can hold the attention of these...people...is like to be respected. And respect with these...people...seems to center around skill."

"Good point. He's probably someone we want to talk to then," Mal agreed.

"What'll you have?"

Startled by the bartender's arrival, Mal looked at the bright-eyed young woman and found an echo of Kaylee there, which instantly prompted a smile. "An introduction, if possible."

"To?"

"That man, over there."

She laughed, a clean peel of humor. When she recovered, she asked, "Wash? You want to know Wash?"

Bemused, Mal answered, "Yes?"

Still snickering, she warned, "He's a little crazy, you know."

"Is he unemployed?"

The young woman eyed Zoe a moment then shrugged. "Perpetually."

"Why's that?" Mal asked.

Leaning on the counter and assuming a gossiping air, she answered, "Wash is one of the best pilot's I've ever seen fly, and I've worked here about ten years. He won all kinds awards and
contests when he was younger and was recruited by the Alliance for their F3 Fighter Class."

Mal whistled. "That's impressive. What happened?"

"No one's rightly sure. One day he was on top of the world, literally, and the next, he just up and left everything behind. I saw a picture of him from back then, and you'd hardly recognize him, he looked so quiet."

Snorting, Mal looked over at the still wildly gesticulating man and repeated, "Quiet? That one?"

She laughed and confirmed, "Quiet. And as for his lack of employment, he keeps claiming that there ain't a Captain out there he wants to fly for. He won't touch Alliance contracts or mercs, and that's pretty much all there is this part of the galaxy."

"What about Independents?" Mal questioned.

Pursing her lips, the woman replied, "I don't know. I guess it would depend on the man."

Mal thought about it a moment, then asked, "Can we get an introduction?"

She nodded. "Sure thing. Hang up here a bit and I'll let him know you're wanting to parlay. Oh, what's your name?"

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds of the Serenity."

Her eyebrows rose near to her hairline but she didn't comment, just headed for the bar exit to get out from behind the counter.

As she walked away, Zoe said, "I don't like this."

"What's to like? We need a pilot," Mal answered simply. "For the jobs we're going to be pulling, I ain't got the skill."

They watched the bartender approach Wash and whisper something in his ear then move to answer another hail. The man looked at them from across the room, his expression curious as he kept talking to his fellow pilots. A few seconds later, he wrapped up his story and ambled up to them, sitting noisily in the seat beside Zoe, leaning close to her with a grin. "Hi there."

Zoe eyed him like she would an unpleasant bug.

Clearing his throat, Mal stuck out his hand and said, "Mal Reynolds."

Wash turned his grin to Mal and took the hand. "Wash. Good to meet you, Captain. I've heard a lot about you. And this lovely lady is.?"

Mal hid his own grin struggling to get out and answered, "My First, Zoe."

"Well hi, Zoe, it's good to meet you, too," Wash offered, holding out his hand.

The stare continued but Wash just winked at her and turned his attention back to Mal. "So. You're looking for a pilot."

Nodding, Mal agreed, "I am. The pay's not great, but free room and board, run of the ship, and leave time if you need it, so long as you don't go overboard."

"Sounds fair. What do you need a pilot for?"

A bit surprised by the question, Mal countered, "Why not?"

"Well, you've been flying Serenity yourself since you got her," Wash said. "And you're the only Captain I know of who does that, and I know a lot of Captains, believe me. You're kind of an insult in the pilot sphere."

Nonplused, Mal could only respond, "Oh. Well, sorry to hear that. It wasn't intentional."

"I'm sure not. Still, it leads to the interesting question of why you want one now when in five years, you ain't never needed one before."

The sharp green eyes looking intently at Mal belied the ready smile and he realized right then that the man before him wasn't quite the laughing idiot he appeared to be. There was definitely more to Wash than what showed on the surface. Making a decision, Mal stated, "All right then, I'll be honest. I made a devil's deal to keep me and mine flying. It's illegal, but not immoral if you don't count guilt by association, and looking to be profitable enough to leave this area of space well and truly behind for better pastures. For good."

"Really. And who's the devil in this case?"

"Usher."

Wash whistled, but it wasn't in admiration. "That's a hell of a deal, Captain Reynolds."

"From which statement I'm guessing you want nothing to do with it, or us."

"Now, now, let's not be hasty," Wash said, holding up a hand. "How long's this deal supposed to last?"

"Five jobs."

"Over how long?"

"Three months."

"Money?"

"Split after each job. Seventy-thirty between Serenity and Usher, with him owning the lion's share, of course. That thirty percent is split evenly among the crew."

"And when it's done?"

"We get the hell out of Dodge and don't look back."

Wash leaned against the counter and looked at him for a long, long time. "All right. I'm you're man, but on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Zoe has to go out on a date with me."

Mal's jaw dropped and he looked to his First. The braids were slowly spinning from magenta towards...well now, wasn't that odd? They were deepening into an odd greenish blue color.

Wash stared at Zoe in fascination and said, "That is so cool! Mood microbes? That must've cost a pretty penny."

"Wash!" Mal exclaimed, trying to prevent a killing.

Startled, the pilot looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"Forget about the date. I don't pimp my crew. The offer stands as is," Mal stated firmly.

Pursing his lips, Wash asked, "How about I'm at least allowed to try and persuade her on a date?"

Mal bit his cheek to keep his face straight. "You like to live dangerous, don't you Wash?"

Grinning broadly, the other man replied, "Well, the fact I accepted your offer should answer that question for you."

* * * *

Kaylee was in the cockpit when they got back to Serenity a few hours later, having packed up a couple of bags of Wash's belongings. Most of which consisted of plastic dinosaurs in a multitude of sizes and painfully loud, floral shirts.

Jumping up from the pilot's chair, Kaylee stuck out a hand and greeted, "Hi there! I'm Kaylee Frye."

Wash took about three seconds to look at her. His grin got even bigger as he yanked her into a hug with, "Sis! Where on earth have you been? Mom's been frantic and I think Dad's going to ground you this time for sure!"

Kaylee laughed with a slightly bewildered expression as he released her. "Uh, sorry for worrying them?"

Wash nodded and winked. "I'll pass it along, but I think you're still grounded."

"Kaylee, this here is Wash. He's out pilot," Mal introduced, trying not to grin himself as Wash rifled through his bag and pulled out a small dinosaur with a long neck and held it out to Kaylee.

"It's a brontosaurus," Wash announced. "Leaf eater, very gentle. Well, unless it accidentally steps on you of course."

Kaylee took the plastic toy and grinned back at Wash, eyes shining. "Thanks, Wash. I ain't never had a dinosaur before."

"You'll have to keep her safe from all the tyrannosaurus rexes out there," he said, mostly serious. "Those are vicious meat eaters."

Nodding, Kaylee promised, "I will."

"Great!"

They both watched as Wash jumped into the pilot's seat and began talking to himself as he went over the console with an eager air.

Kaylee leaned in close to Mal and asked softly, "Is he all right, sir? In the head, I mean?"

Pursing his lips, Mal answered, "I'm not rightly sure yet, xiao mei mei."

"Oh. Okay."

* * * *

Dinner that night was a right interesting affair. Mal got his first look at an unrestrained Wash, a quiet, but non-depressed Zoe, and an unusually vivacious Kaylee. He himself felt rather confounded by the people surrounding him, as though they'd been taken over by aliens who looked like his crew, but really weren't.

Kaylee and Wash got on like a house a-fire, which really shouldn't have surprised him, but did for some reason. They were both laughing and talking a mile a minute and going from subject to subject with lightening speed. After the tenth change in conversation in near as many minutes, Mal gave up trying to follow and just ate his protein.

Zoe's hair was still in that odd teal shade and while it looked a bit odd, given he'd never really seen much of the blue spectrum in her before, Mal was a bit relieved that the red had gone away. A perpetually murderous Zoe was a bit more nerve-wracking than he liked to live with.

"Sir?"

Mal shook himself out of his thoughts and answered, "Yeah?"

"When are we getting under way?"

"Well, I thought we'd give Wash here a day or so to get acquainted with Serenity and then start out," Mal replied.

"No need," Wash interjected.

Mal looked at him. "Beg your pardon?"

Shrugging, Wash repeated, "No need. Serenity and I've gotten to know each other pretty good."

"In three hours?" Zoe questioned flatly, her tone defying her hair.

"Yep."

Mal leaned on the table and eyed his new pilot closely. "Not that I want to be doubting you, you understand, but three hours ain't much time to get to know anything."

"I'm a fast study. Not to mention I've flown a couple other Firefly's in my time," Wash explained. "Serenity's nice and smooth, a good girl. Kaylee's done a great job with her."

Flushing with the praise, Kaylee said, "She is a great ship, isn't she?"

"Best of the lot," Wash agreed.

Mal held up a hand and stated, "Be that as it may, you know what the job requires, right? And you're confident that you can pull it off without a problem?"

"Well it's not real difficult. Fly in, wait `til you rip them off, then fly out and evade any Alliance in the area. Right?"

Put like that, it didn't sound difficult. "Well yeah."

"So what's the problem?"

"I guess...none."

Wash grinned again and turned back to Kaylee, the subject dismissed for the time being. A bit thrown that the other man seemed completely unintimidated by him, Mal stared at the pilot's back for a few seconds then shrugged and went back to his protein.

A Devil's Deal - Part 3

"I don't like him."

Mal refrained from pointing out that if she really didn't like Wash, Zoe's hair would be flaming red instead of the wishy-washy teal it still was several days.

"He's moody and weird and loud and annoying and talks to himself and plays with those gorram dinosaurs and weird."

"You said that already."

Zoe glared at him. "That's because it's a good adjective."

Leaning against the wall, Mal questioned, "This wouldn't be because he seems to have fixated himself on you now, would it?"

"What? Of course not!" Zoe exclaimed. "He keeps playing with my braids, sir."

Mal knew that the next couple of seconds would decide his fate and, considering that he really wanted to live, he strangled the impulse to laugh down dead instead and stated seriously, "I'll talk to him about that."

Her dark eyes narrowed at him and she snarled, "You do that. Sir."

Mal watched her leave with a small smile then shook his head and started towards the cockpit. The irrepressible Wash was going to have to learn some repression if Mal wanted any kind of peace on his own damn ship. The fact that Wash had even touched Zoe's braids and lived told him a lot about how the woman was feeling. He'd looked up the color scheme to those microbes and discovered that teal stood for confused, which told him the rest. It was the first time since Mal had known her, that anyone had persistently courted Zoe.

And it was courting, despite the braid incidents. Maybe that was part of the courting? Mal shook his head again, unsure. Little origami presents kept showing up on Zoe's plate before supper. Dried flowers appeared magically in her locked quarters. Her weapons occasionally found themselves wiped and oiled all on their own. Wash didn't appear to be one to take no for an answer and really, Mal didn't want to tell him to do so.

It had been a week since they'd taken the first run. A week in which they'd had to hide out in the back-end of the sector avoiding Alliance patrols that seemed to have doubled in response to their raid. Wash was rarely seen outside the cockpit and Mal didn't know when the man slept, or even if he did, but somehow, he found time to come up with small, thoughtful gifts for Zoe.

That wasn't really something Mal wanted to stifle. Maybe he could just have Wash cut back a little. Ease off on the braid thing, at least.

They were about to head back to Usher's, after all, and the last thing Mal wanted was a confused Zoe.

* * * *

"That's pretty creepifying," Wash observed slowly.

Mal nodded agreement, feeling the self-same shivers of loathing for the space station ahead of them that he had a month ago when they'd first approached it. "It is, ain't it? The inside's even worse. Be thankful you're not going in."

"Oh, I am. But, ah, Zoe's going in?"

"Yep. She and the Chief will go through the cargo manifest while I converse with the devil."

Wash gave him an odd look. "The Chief?"

"Security Chief," Mal explained. "Don't know his name and he didn't seem inclined to give it."

"Ah. Um. This would be someone dangerous, right?"

"Very much so, yes."

"But it's going to be okay because you and Usher have an understanding?"

"Hope so."

"Hope so!?"

Sighing, Mal said, "With Usher, you never can tell."

"You want an extra man?"

At first, Mal thought he was joking. But then he saw a completely serious expression on the pilot's face and felt strangely... bolstered... by the support he found there. He briefly regretted the other man's fixation on Zoe as bright eyes regarded him, then shut that thought down. It had been so long since he'd had someone in his bed, he probably wouldn't know what to do anymore. Besides, when he thought of bed partners, his mind seemed to have its own notion of what was desirable these days.like slender, brown-haired doctors, for instance.

Realizing that Wash was still waiting on an answer, Mal shook his head. "No, thanks, Wash. We can handle it. The only deal we might have trouble with is the last one. You know. The one where we're no longer useful to Usher."

"Oh. Right."

"Appreciate the offer, though."

"What offer is that?"

Both men turned towards Zoe and Mal answered, "Wash was offering to come along as backup."

She looked at the pilot in surprise. "You can shoot?"

"Of course I can shoot!" Wash exclaimed. Then he grinned slyly and added, "Now ask me if I can hit anything other than the broad side of a ship."

Snorting, Zoe shook her head and said, "Cargo's ready to go, Captain."

"Good. I want to be in and out," Mal stated, getting to his feet.

There was the familiar thud of Serenity latching onto the station and Mal tried to stave off the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

He followed Zoe out of the cockpit back to the cargo bay and straight to where the Chief waited, peering into Serenity through the port window. Zoe unlocked the hatch and the big man entered, looking around.

"Nice ship."

That was nigh onto a raging endorsement from the taciturn man, so Mal smiled briefly and replied, "Thanks. Make yourself at home. Zoe'll show you the manifest and you can go over it as thorough as you like."

The Chief nodded and Mal stepped through the hatch into the station, heading for Usher's study where they'd met before. It didn't take long to get to, and Mal nodded to the guards just outside the door before knocking and entering.

Usher was exactly where he'd been the last time, only now, Simon was on the desk, legs to both sides of Usher's as he faced the man, hands gripping the wooden edge hard enough that his hands were bloodless. Usher was leaning close to Simon's midriff as though staring at something, but his arm was moving. Mal couldn't see what was going on, but from little Mal could see of the lack of expression on Simon's face, it was sure to be unpleasant.

He wasn't acknowledged by either man, so Mal just sat in the chair in front of the desk and waited. After several long minutes of silence, punctuated only by pained grunts from Simon, Usher pushed the other man from his perch, tumbling him to the floor. Mal only just restrained himself from getting up to help the doctor to his feet.

"Simon. Show Captain Reynolds my handiwork."

It took a few seconds for Simon to even push up into a sitting position, but when he did, Mal saw the blood stained shirt and tensed.

"I like to renew the designs every-so-often," Usher continued pleasantly.

Simon got up and staggered to Mal's chair, face white with pain, and gripped Mal's shoulder hard to steady himself.

Gently, Mal lifted the reddened shirt to look beneath. His jaw clenched tight upon finding the blood-smeared, High Caste Sigil for `Mine' carved into Simon's abdomen and the same for `Whore' over Simon's heart. He looked up, but the other man was staring stonily ahead, unwilling to meet Mal's eyes. Lowering the shirt, he commented neutrally, "You should clean it up, make sure it doesn't get infected."

Sneering slightly, Usher replied, "He's too good a doctor to let that happen, aren't you, Simon?"

"May I go, Sir?"

Point obviously made, though what had provoked it Mal didn't know, Usher nodded and said, "Go clean yourself up."

Simon pushed himself off from Mal with a grunt of pain and left the room, mostly steady on his feet.

Mal looked to Usher and asked, "Can we talk about business now?"

Usher grinned unexpectedly and said, "I like you."

*Now that there is a right unsettling thing,* Mal thought to himself, keeping his face impassive as he replied dryly, "Thanks."

Usher leaned forward, folding his hands together with a pleasant expression. "So. How did we do?"

"We did great. Your Chief's going over the list with Zoe right now, should be by shortly I expect with a tally," Mal reported.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Usher exclaimed.

Almost on cue, the big man entered the study and crossed to the desk, handing Usher an inventory counter before standing at what seemed to be his customary position against the wall. After a few moments over looking it over, Usher's pale eyes gleamed at Mal and he said, "Wonderful indeed, Captain Reynolds! This is going to be a very profitable venture for us both if you can keep this up."

Mal nodded and stood. "I agree."

"Don't be so hasty."

"Something else?"

"I was thinking that you might enjoy a night of recreation here, as my guest," Usher replied, leaning back in his leather seat.

"There's a lot to do getting Serenity ready for the next job."

"I'm sure that Simon would be happy to keep you company for the evening."

Mal froze at the offer, temptation rearing its ugly head.

Laughing softly, Usher commented, "I figured that would get your attention. I've noticed how you can't keep your eyes from him."

"He's a fine looking man," Mal agreed slowly, sinking back down into his chair.

Usher gestured expansively. "He's yours to do with as you will, until morning. You can use the Blue Room."

"Ah, I don't rightly know what to say."

"Thank you is always a good start."

Mal half-smirked. "Thank you. I appreciate the loan. I do need to head back to Serenity for a bit, talk to Zoe and organize a few things."

"Of course. Come back aboard when you're ready."

"Where would I find Simon about now? Infirmary?"

"Probably. Go left out of my office and it's just after the first intersecting hall," Usher instructed.

Nodding, Mal stood again and headed out to find Simon.

* * * *

The infirmary was just where Usher had said it would be and he entered the room quietly, looking around first. It was big, airy, and spotless so far as Mal could tell. Simon was looking out a port window on the far side of the room and he stopped just behind the man.

"Good evening, Captain Reynolds," Simon greeted without turning around.

"Evening," Mal answered, even as he wondered how the other man had known it was him.

Simon faced him and explained, "I saw your reflection in the port."

Mal nodded, eyes flicking down to check if the shirt was fresh, which, of course it was. "Of course. Ah, how are you?"

Shrugging, Simon returned to contemplating the view outside the station; which was to say nothing at all. There was something disquieting about watching him stare so intent-like at nothing. Hesitant, Mal asked, "What do you see?"

"Nothing."

"So it's meditation, then."

A faint smile curved Simon's lips as he replied, "You could say that. Did you have a prosperous run?"

"We did," Mal reported. "The profit's going to be more than expected."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"He's given me to you, hasn't he?"

Uncomfortable with the matter-of-fact tone, Mal nodded. "For the night, yeah."

"Where will you be?"

"Ah, the blue room?"

Simon nodded and told him, "I like that room."

"Good, I'm glad," Mal said sincerely.

Their eyes met for a long moment, then Simon said, "He's not a man to be refused."

"Not arbitrarily, no."

There was something akin to disappointment in Simon's eyes as he turned away with, "I'll see you at seven."

"Sure," Mal agreed easily. He hesitated, then turned and walked back the way he'd come.

A Devil's Deal - Part 4


Kaylee looked up in surprise at Mal's entrance, barely missing hitting her head on the bottom of the engine. "Yes, Cap'n?"

Pacing a bit, Mal asked, "Is there something around here that'd disrupt the station's communications for a few hours?"

She thought about it for a moment then nodded decisively and turned on her heel, striding to the other side of the room. Mal watched her rummage through a massive metal chest, her backside shifting unselfconsciously as she moved this way and that. Shaking his head in amusement, Mal looked around the engine room and frowned. "What happened to the silver? I liked the silver."

Kaylee's voice was muffled as she answered, "Wash says it's bad luck. Gotta have bronze or gold or some such color for an engine room."

Figures that he couldn't even decorate his own gorram ship without it getting re-arranged. Irritated, he demanded, "Where the hell did you find the paint?"

"Dunno. Wash came up with it. Aha! Here it is!" Kaylee exclaimed in triumph, straightening up. She held out a small metal object and said, "Press the big button and all the monitoring equipment goes buggy. Lasts a good eight hours, all told."

"Vid and audio?"

"Yessir."

Mal nodded slowly, taking the device from her. "How come it was buried away like that?"

"Don't need it no more."

It occurred to him that she'd needed it before, if she'd tucked it away and forgotten about it. "But, other jobs? You'd needed it then?"

With a shrug, Kaylee stated, "Most Captain's aren't so honorable as you, Cap'n. `Specially the men. They tend to bug the women's quarters hopin' for a show. I'm not much for modesty with those I like and trust, but I don't have no wish for someone to be jerkin' off to me without my consent."

Slightly squeamish at those words coming from Kaylee's mouth, Mal said, "Well, good then. Um, glad you, you know, don't need this anymore."

She grinned at his discomfort. "What do you need it for?"

Mal grimaced and dropped the device in his pocket. "Usher's decided to give me a bonus and while I don't want to tick him off by refusing, I don't rightly want to accept either."

Eyes widening, Kaylee asked, "He's giving you a Companion?"

Grim, Mal shook his head. "Nothing so nice and pretty, or willing come to speak on it. I don't know what the man's doing on Usher's station, but sure as hell it's not by choice."

"Well, you should probably start that thing before you get on board, you know, so they don't associate it with you," Kaylee advised.

He gripped her shoulder, pulling her into a hug and saying, "Thanks, little Kaylee. I appreciate this."

Beaming up at him, she said, "My pleasure."

* * * *

Jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, Mal paced the aptly named Blue Room, but couldn't quite figure out why he was so nervous. He suspected it had something to do with that last look Simon had given him before being dismissed. It had been a long time since anyone aside from Zoe had had the power to make him feel small and mean, but apparently, Simon also possessed the ability.

At precisely seven, there was a polite knock at the door and he strode across the room to open it. The Chief was on the other side of the door and he shot Mal a murderous look before stepping aside to reveal Simon. Mal's eyes lingered appreciatively on Simon before he, too, stood aside to let the man enter.

When the door closed, Mal grinned and observed, "The Chief seems a mite protective of you."

Startled, Simon glanced back at the door, then to Mal. "Who, Jayne?"

"Jayne?" Mal asked incredulously. That big, hulking, *savage* was named... "Jayne?"

An honest smile of amusement surfaced on Simon's face as he asked, "Are you going to tease him about it?"

Chuckling, Mal agreed, "Good point. Hey, you want a drink?"

Simon shrugged, his good move vanishing as he sat on the bed.

Sighing, Mal stayed where he was, informing the other man, "Nothing's going to happen here, Simon."

Again, Simon cast him a startled look. "Excuse me?"

Wry, Mal explained, "I prefer to find my own bed partners, and get them through my own charms, than to have them assigned to me."

"I see." Simon paused. "Then, why am I here?"

"I thought you might like a night to yourself."

Simon cocked an eyebrow at him.

Mal pulled out the jammer and tossed it to Simon. The hands were as quick as he'd suspected, easily catching the device and holding it up for examination. "Right now, the monitoring system's having some trouble. It'll last about another five hours. So, you know...whatever you want to do: read, surf the Cortex, take a bath, whatever...feel free. I've got some paperwork I can take care of."

For a long moment, Simon didn't even move, never mind speak, but Mal didn't rush him. He was sure that, aside from Jayne, no one had done anything nice for the man in a long time.

Finally, Simon cleared his throat and asked, "What about when it wears off?"

"Well, hopefully you won't mind taking the left side, because I just can't sleep on that side of the bed," Mal teased gently. "I figure that as long as it looks like we messed around, we don't actually have to do the deed."

A smile tugged at Simon's lips as he observed, "You're not quite right, Captain Reynolds, has anyone ever told you that?"

Mal grinned. "A time or two. And it's Mal. We shouldn't be so formal if we're going to be sleeping together tonight."

Simon eyed the extended hand as though it were an alien thing, then took it hesitantly. Mal kept his grip light but firm, trying to convey friendship and nothing else. It must have worked, because Simon's hand tightened on his and the doctor stood a bit taller. "Call me Doc."

Feeling as though he'd just won some kind of battle, Mal breathed easier and said, "Good to meet you, Doc."

"And you, as well, Mal."

They stood there a moment, hands clasped, then Simon pulled his free and stepped back, offering, "Would you care for dinner?"

"If you're serving something aside from protein, I'm starving."

Simon smiled and said, as he walked towards the door, "I think I can have something acceptable whipped up."

When the door opened to reveal the Chief standing there as though planted, Mal sat on the couch to give them some privacy. Their voices were low and, at first, Jayne sounded more than a little pressed. More than once, the Security Chief glanced to him and Mal kept his own eyes steady. He felt a twinge of something he didn't want to identify when Simon placed his hand in the center of Jayne's considerable chest and looked up at the big man with a warm expression. Mal could sympathize with Jayne's rapid shift from hard merc to pile-of-goo at that look.

He very much suspected that he'd do the same if it were ever turned upon him.

Finally, Jayne nodded to Simon and left, but not before cupping Simon's face in a massive hand and actually smiling at the smaller man.

Mal looked away, studiously pounding any and all emotions into the crevice where they'd been locked away before meeting Simon.

The door shut and Simon announced, amused, "You can look now."

Flushing a bit, Mal said, "I ah, I didn't want to, you know, intrude."

"There's nothing to intrude upon."

"Didn't look that way to me."

"Usher would kill Jayne in a heartbeat for even touching me," Simon stated simply. "I am for Usher, and Usher alone."

"Then what about this? Tonight, with me?"

"Ah, but he gave me to you, so that's all right. He has no problems whoring me out to his friends or business partners," Simon explained, sitting beside Mal.

Mal shifted to face him, hating Simon's acceptance and briefly wondering what it had taken to get the man beaten that far down. Deciding he didn't really want to know, Mal said, "You're not a whore."

"I'm not? I fuck who I'm told to fuck, and get paid for my services. Sounds like a whore to me."

"You get paid?"

"After a fashion."

The whole conversation was deeply disturbing to Mal. "Why don't you leave?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Where would I go?" Simon pointed out. "He owns this entire sector of space, and is very powerful in the surrounding areas. No one would dare defy him by transporting me and...and that's a fact."

Mal frowned, certain that Simon had been going to say something else."Can we talk about something else?" Simon asked in a soft, pained voice.

"I'm sorry," Mal apologized instantly. "This is your night, so whatever you want, it's yours."

Simon pulled out a smile from somewhere and replied, "Well if that's the case, a nice dinner, relaxing conversation, some reading and music, then a hot soak before bed."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

The food arrived about the same time Jayne did with a bag for Simon. Mal looked up at the man who'd waited until the servers had left to crowd Mal against the wall. It was a little difficult to stay calm with the large merc so close, but Mal managed it. "Something I can do for you, Chief?"

In a low, intense voice, Jayne stated, "You hurt him, I bury you. And I'm not talking about his body, neither. We clear?"

Mal's gaze didn't waver as he nodded. "We're clear, Chief."

Jayne didn't move for a long moment. Then he nodded abruptly and stalked from the room.

Sighing deeply, Mal glanced over at Simon to find the other man eyeing him strangely. "What?"

Simon shook his head, as though just realizing he'd been staring, and replied, "Nothing, just...nothing. I'm going to change for dinner."

Before Mal could speak, Simon had grabbed his bag and retreated into the bathroom. Another sigh escaped and he hoped that the others were having a better night.

* * * *

Soft, classical guitar music filled the suite and Mal yawned, more relaxed than he'd been in a long time, despite his surroundings. Simon had pretty much entertained himself the entire night, doing everything he'd listed at the outset: read, eat dinner, have some good conversation and was now currently ensconced in the bathtub, soaking. Mal had occupied himself with reading notes on Serenity from Kaylee and Wash all night. Most of the time had been spent deciphering their chicken scratches, as opposed to actually reading the content.

Drowsing lightly, he failed to hear the bathroom door open, so the hand that brushed hair from his forehead came as a complete surprise. Without thinking, Mal grabbed the hand and yanked Simon into a solid martial hold around the neck. Coming completely awake, Mal gave a horrified, wordless exclamation, and immediately released Simon. The other man staggered back, catching himself against the wall and staring warily at Mal.

"God, Simon, I am so sorry!" Mal apologized, staying where he was so as not to further frighten the man. "I was mostly asleep and just reacted."

Rubbing his throat, Simon replied, "It didn't look like you were having a nightmare. You're forehead was twitching, so I thought your hair might be itching you."

Breathing deeply, Mal held it then released it, calming his heart and wondering who'd been more scared by the incident. He could already see a bruise forming on the pale skin. His eyes drifted down the throat to the square bandage over Simon's heart and abdomen. "I don't dream, don't sleep deep enough for that."

"That's impossible."

Mal shook his head. "No, it's not. I haven't...not since the war."

Surprise glinted in the dark eyes and some of the caution faded. "You were in the war? Which side?"

His mouth twisted into a bitter facsimile of a smile and Mal replied, "Which do you think? The losing one. That's why my ship's named Serenity. That was the last battle I was in."

Simon's eyes widened in shock and he gasped, "And you're alive!?"

"Me and Zoe both, though most of our platoon died from it," Mal recounted wearily. Rubbing his eyes, Mal said, "How about we get into bed and continue the conversation there? Jammer's about to be running out in another few minutes."

Nodding, Simon agreed, "Of course. I hope...is it okay for me to dress like this?"

Mal stood and walked to him. "Wear whatever you want, Simon, I told you. This was your night."

With a sigh, Simon said, "I could get used to this. It's almost like..."

Like he was free, Mal knew the other man refused to say. He didn't comment, but instead pulled off his shirt, dropping it on the floor. He unbuckled and unzipped then stopped, pants halfway to his knees as he realized Simon was staring and asked, "Ah, this okay? I usually sleep in my boxers."

Simon grinned. "Don't mind me, I'm just enjoying the scenery."

Unaccountably, Mal flushed but he stoically pulled his pants off the rest of the way, leaving them in a heap on the floor, too. Simon had climbed under the covers, taking the right side of the bed, Mal saw as he approached. Grinning, knowing that it was a test of how far Mal was going to treat Simon like an equal, he silently took the left side of the bed, resigning himself to a sleepless night.

As soon as he got comfortable, Simon nudged his shoulder. Looking over at the other man, Mal found gratitude in the dark eyes staring at him. "Don't, Doc, it's nothing."

Swallowing heavily, Simon shook his head and whispered, "It's everything to me. Do you know how long it's been since I've felt like a man? Able to do what I want, when I want to do it?"

Wordless, Mal shook his head.

"Five years."

*Fuck,* Mal thought, closing his eyes against the knowledge that this man had been forced to endure such a life for so long. No wonder he was so accepting of his status, despite his background. Usher had probably taken the long route to beating him into submission, enjoying every whip of pain and every bruise and mark he'd inflicted into the pale skin.

When Simon's hand rested on Mal's face, he didn't move. The long, elegant fingers just lay there for a few minutes, then Simon shifted closer and warm, soft lips touched Mal's. His eyes flew open and he whispered, "No, Doc, you don't have to do this."

"I want to."

Groaning at the horrible position he was in, knowing how much he wanted it, but not wanting to take advantage, Mal brought his hand up and gently stroked a thumb across Simon's cheek. "Don't do it for gratitude, Doc, please. I couldn't take that. I won't lie. I want you, right badly, but not like that. If it's straight out desire or lust, I got no problem with doing anything you want. But if you're not sure that this isn't coming from gratitude or some misplaced feelings, then please don't."

Simon continued to stare at him for a long time and Mal returned the look almost without blinking. Simon kissed him again, a thing barely felt before it was gone, and then, unexpectedly, moved up and over Mal, rolling onto the left side of the bed. "Scoot over, I'm on the edge here."

Half grinning at the order, Mal did so and flipped over to face Simon. They maneuvered until Mal was spooned up behind Simon, one arm beneath Simon's head and the other over his waist. Kissing the back of the neck presented to him, Mal murmured, "This is nice, too."

Simon's hand tightened on Mal's forearm, but he didn't otherwise answer or acknowledge the statement.

* * * *

Dressed and ready to go, Mal looked down at the sleeping Simon sprawled across most of the bed. Through the night, Mal had steadily been pushed to the edge of the bed as Simon took over as much of the mattress as possible. Smiling at the tousled man buried against a pillow, Mal whispered, "Be well, Doc, I'll see you around."

To his surprise, Jayne was waiting outside the door, pretty much where he'd been when the door had closed the night before. They exchanged a long, measuring look, then Mal said, "Keep an eye on him. I want him in one piece next time I come by."

Slowly, Jayne nodded. "I'll do my best, Captain."

"Good. That's all a body can ask," Mal stated, heading for the exit.

END