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On the job.
Apr. 6th, 2013 01:58 pmIt took far longer than it should have, but Mal lands a job prospect on Persephone, close to the Shepherd's old stomping grounds. There's a thought that crosses his mind that he should stop in, say something, but he can hear Book laughing at the idea in his head, so Mal just walks on.
"Captain Reynolds," a blonde girl steps out into Mal's path, no older than Kaylee had been when she first joined his crew. "This way, please."
No point in complaining just yet, so he follows.
"You're alone," the nameless girl says in one of those tones that's supposed to be a question but isn't. "Most folk don't come to talk business alone."
Zoe is with Naomi; Jayne is in his bunk. Or out, whichever. Mal wasn't expecting trouble. He gives no answer and keeps on until the alleyway opens into a tented room, and the blonde girl walks right up and sits on the lap of the gangly man in the central chair in full view.
"Ain't you just the king o' the quadrant," Mal quips, amused at the sight. The new client pays no mind, and they get down to brass tacks. (Mal has more rules about what he won't carry on as cargo; the girl on the client's lap makes him remind all parties involved that absolutely no passengers that don't get a choice in the matter to go will be on his boat.)
Coin changes hands (for once, it's the amount promised) and it's time to go. Cargo is getting delivered to Serenity in the afternoon mail drop to their docking station, and it's all easy-peasy from there.
"Good luck, Captain Reynolds," the client says as Mal leaves.
That's never the most comforting of good-byes, is it?
"Captain Reynolds," a blonde girl steps out into Mal's path, no older than Kaylee had been when she first joined his crew. "This way, please."
No point in complaining just yet, so he follows.
"You're alone," the nameless girl says in one of those tones that's supposed to be a question but isn't. "Most folk don't come to talk business alone."
Zoe is with Naomi; Jayne is in his bunk. Or out, whichever. Mal wasn't expecting trouble. He gives no answer and keeps on until the alleyway opens into a tented room, and the blonde girl walks right up and sits on the lap of the gangly man in the central chair in full view.
"Ain't you just the king o' the quadrant," Mal quips, amused at the sight. The new client pays no mind, and they get down to brass tacks. (Mal has more rules about what he won't carry on as cargo; the girl on the client's lap makes him remind all parties involved that absolutely no passengers that don't get a choice in the matter to go will be on his boat.)
Coin changes hands (for once, it's the amount promised) and it's time to go. Cargo is getting delivered to Serenity in the afternoon mail drop to their docking station, and it's all easy-peasy from there.
"Good luck, Captain Reynolds," the client says as Mal leaves.
That's never the most comforting of good-byes, is it?
