Part 1: Onward, Upward, and Upside Down

I.

It was a steamy, sultry evening. Was there any other sort on Beaumonde? The vendors were vending, the hawkers hawking, the hookers were hooking. Captain Malcolm Reynolds had already hustled his crew back aboard Serenity – the last thing, the absolute last thing, he needed at this point was an incident that would get them noticed. A barroom brawl, an irate salesman, anything. Anything was too dangerous. Not knowing whether the Alliance would be gunning for his people or not, Mal intended to duck into port, load up supplies, and be out again before anyone even had a chance to hiccup out of turn.

The crazy person pestering him now was most certainly a hiccup.

“Explain to me again,” he grunted, heaving a crate into the hold, “how my acquiring an extra mouth to feed is a good thing.”

“Oh, I do wish you wouldn’t think of it as an extra body in the way, Cap’n Reynolds.” The gangling woman wrung her hands as she got in the way of Mal’s aggressive packing. “It’s such an opportunity – for both of us!”

He snorted. “An opportunity? Seems to me, most every time someone comes along with an ‘opportunity’ for me, it winds up with my boat getting shot up, my crew getting cranky, and my bank account staying empty. If you’ll excuse me—”

“Oh!” She grabbed his arm with one hand, and began rummaging wildly in the pockets of her vest and trousers. “Oh, wait – do wait, won’t you, sir? Where did I put it? You’ll want to see this. Honest! Captain, please.”

He squinted at the grubby piece of paper she pushed into his hand. “What’s all this, then?”

“Just some figures I thought you might want to see. What I do, I do for the love of it, sir. But I realize you may well have some more pressing concerns. Like, as in, finances.” She blinked up at him with all the innocence of her ingenuous heart – her eyes looked ridiculously huge through the thick goggles she wore. “Those there are the pay-offs for a patent. Mind you, those take a bit of time to come through. And on the right are standard payments for vaccines, antibiotics, other sorts of things folks out there need.”

“That’s …” He looked at the paper harder, and swallowed. “That’s a lot of zeros. Is that the right number of zeroes?”

“All entirely accurate. Straight out of the last Proceedings of the Interplanetary Scientists of the Alliance.”

Mal gave her a more scrutinizing glance, then pushed the paper back at her. “I’m sorry, ma’am – but I don’t have much truck with Alliance scientists.”

He picked up the last box and made to head up the ramp into the ship, but her fingers latched into his sleeve. “Please, captain! That’s why I came to you!”

Her eyes were wide, all but brimming with tears. She reminded Mal briefly of Saffron; he shook that memory off as quickly as he could. “You saw the Miranda broadcast, then? Is that why you’re here?”

“Miranda?” Her face crumpled; she let go of his sleeve and let him take a step up the ramp. “Do we have to talk about that? I don’t – it’s too—”

“I’m sorry.” Mal sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. “Look – I don’t like hanging around this port any longer than I have to. If you can get yourself and whatever equipment you need on board in half an hour, then I’ll take you along. If not – then it’s been a pleasure to meet you.”

Her delighted grin nearly split her face in two. “All right, then!” She threw her haversack across her shoulders and trotted up into Serenity.

Mal stared up at her from the foot of the plank. “What about your things?”

“No worries, cap’n.” She patted the boxes in the hold fondly. “You just spent the last twenty minutes loading it up for me.”

…

“Let me get this straight,” said Zoë calmly. “You hired us a biologist?”

“Not hired, exactly.” Mal leaned back in the pilot’s chair and stretched his legs as best he could. The chair had been a perfect fit for Wash, but Mal’s larger frame was cramped. Wash … Mal moved quickly past the painful thought. “I ain’t paying her. Well, I told her I’d keep food in her belly, as long as she turns us a profit. Apparently there’s some cash to be made selling supplies and sundries as she can make to the farmers – cures and preventatives for their herds and crops. Not huge, but steady-like. The big pay-off comes if she can find some new bug that survived a terraform – something useful to them other scientists, something she can patent and sell.”

River set the controls to the autopilot system and drew her legs up into the copilot’s seat to stare across at the captain and his first officer. Zoë reached across Mal and flipped a few switches as they settled into speed. “And we couldn’t sell this quackery ourselves – why?”

He sighed. “Well, A, this Fletcher woman makes her own stuff, develops it herself. I had her checked out, apparently she’s good at what she does. This molecular business. Number two, it ain’t something she seemed willing to sell. She seems to have a bone to pick with the Alliance, same as us, and she ain’t going to cry if the outer worlds have something the central ones haven’t. And last … well, she just asked so pretty.” He grinned crookedly at his lieutenant.

Zoë wasn’t having any of it. “Can we trust her, cap’n?”

“Well, hell, no.” Mal double-checked River’s flightplan; it was perfect, of course. “We need another crazy genius on board like we need a hole in the hull.”

“I promise, Captain Reynolds, I am hardly a genius.” Mal’s newest hand poked her head onto the bridge. “I make as many mistakes as the next crazy person. Oh my stars, what beautiful … stars!”

“Miz Fletcher,” Mal gestured. “This is Zoë Washburne, my second in command.”

“Please, call me Dr. Fletcher.” The newcomer smiled. “Or Marnie, if you’re feeling friendly.”

“Marnie.” Polite but distant, Zoë held out her hand for a shake, which Marnie Fletcher accepted enthusiastically. “Delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“The same to you, if I may say so.” The biologist cocked her head. “Is that a person hiding under the console?”

“That’s River,” Mal put in quickly. “She’s our …”

“Albatross,” said River, with a note of pride.

“Well.” Marnie stepped further into the bridge. “Every ship can use a good luck totem. ‘Specially such a pretty little one.”

River made a face and wrapped her arms around her legs.

Before Marnie could object, Zoë raised a hand. “Not much sense in arguing with her, she knows what you’re going to say before you know it.”

“I’m a crazy genius,” River pointed out.

Mal cut in as Marnie looked at River with interest. “You get your stuff stowed all right?”

“Oh, sure. The doc wasn’t wild about giving up a nice little chunk of his sickbay, but I got everything squeezed into a corner real nice.” She stretched out a hand. “Is that a stegosaurus?”

Zoë seized the other woman’s wrist. “Those stay there,” she said, looking slightly embarrassed about her abruptness.

“Of course.” Marnie stepped back and shoved her hands deep in her pockets. “Well, Captain … I suppose I should see about getting myself set up proper. Just thought I’d take a peek around, say hello.”

“Help him,” River prompted.

Mal winked at the girl. “Course she’ll help me. Could stand an extra hand keeping food on the dinner table and fuel in the engines.”

She ignored him, and stood to speak directly to the new woman. “Help him. Help me. Help me help him.”

“Of course, darlin’.” Marnie smiled nervously and starting backing down the stairs. “Of course. If, ah, anyone needs me, I’ll be getting in the good doctor’s way for the intermediate future.” She beat a hasty retreat out of the bridge.

“She’s good,” murmured River, to whoever was listening. “She’s a good scientist.” She slipped out of the bridge and followed Marnie down the stairs. Mal sighed and swung around and out of his chair, squeezing Zoe’s arm as he passed her. He hoped to God he knew what he was getting himself and his crew into.

…

Zoe and Mal got Marnie squared away in one of the extra rooms beyond the common area with a minimum of difficulty. (“Not to worry,” she assured them, “Not very many of the mice escaped, and how in the world are they going to survive aboard a go tsao de spaceship?”)

Jayne went down to retrieve one of the wooden dining room chairs from retirement when it was time for mess. “About time we had an unattached piece of womanflesh on this boat,” he grunted as he shoved the chair into place. “A man has needs, y’know.”

“Jayne, don’t be such a pig!” Kaylee shook her head as she set bowls out on the table. “Honestly. What if Marnie heard you?”

“I’m unattached,” River observed from under the table.

Jayne didn’t bother to hide his grimace. “I don’t gen’rally take up with girls young enough to be my daughter. Just in case.”

“Let alone Zoe,” Kaylee continued. “Talk like that’s the last thing she needs to hear. She’d probably rip your left arm off and beat you over the head with it, and she’d have every right to it, too.”

“Who’s getting beaten over the head with dismembered limbs?” Marnie walked into the dining area. “I hope it’s not me. Simon’s going to be late for dinner, he’s busy breaking all of my equipment for now. You haven’t stepped on any mice, have you?”

Jayne looked down at the deck with some alarm, but River held out one hand. “Here.”

“Goodness!” Marnie palmed the squirming mouse and raised her goggles to peer at it. “The X-17 transgenics! I’d right out forgotten those.” She stuck the creature into her left breast pocket. Kaylee and Jayne stared at her, but she waved a hand. “Oh, worry not. There’s food in there. Somewheres.”

“Did someone say food?” Mal meandered though the doorway, with Zoe close behind. “Whatcha got for us, Kaylee?”

“Managed to scrounge up a few fresh things planetside, Cap’n.” The engineer beamingly presented a serving bowl of brown rice to Marnie. “Thought I’d make up something nice and fresh to celebrate the arrival of our new crewmate.”

Jayne scowled. “How come there’s green things in it?”

“Green things in your nose, too,” River said from the floor.

Shaking her head, Zoe pulled out a seat. “I wouldn’t worry about the green things so much as the meat if I were you, Jayne. You going to sit up here with the grown-up folks, River?” The girl climbed into the chair next to the first officer.

“I think … the green things are the meat,” Mal said slowly.

Kaylee turned pink. There was a pause, then everyone reached for the same time for the tray of processed proteins, leaving the celebrated new crewmate stuck with the bowl of mysteriously colored rice. “It’s okay,” said Jayne around a mouthful of chow, “you’re supposed to eat lots of different colored stuff. To prevent scurvy or something.”

Marnie looked up at the ceiling. “Some plants and animals use bright coloration to advertise their poisonous nature. Monarch butterflies, poison dart frogs.” She half-heartedly scooped some rice onto her plate.

“How about turtles?” Jayne asked.

“Turtles aren’t poisonous.” Mal reached across the table for the salt shaker. “They’ve got sharp teeth.”

“You’re thinking of alligators. Turtles have shells.”

“No, turtles have claws.”

“No, turtles are too big too eat.”

“Has anyone here ever actually seen a turtle?” Zoe asked. River raised her hand; everyone else studied their plates carefully.

“Maybe the green stuff is turtle,” said Marnie mournfully.

Kaylee smiled at her captain as she passed a plate of biscuits down to their new scientist. “I think she’ll do just fine here, Cap’n.”

…

The weeks passed easily. Serenity’s crew was in desperate need of a quiet haul, and for the most part they got one. Mice turned up periodically (dead or alive), River got underfoot, Kaylee barely kept the ship in one piece, Simon and Marnie bickered over workspace, Jayne bickered with everyone. It was an entirely shiny time.

Something was bound to go wrong.