A/N This story here is set post-Out of Gas. :D Don't be afraid to R&R. I appreciate critiques, praises, and recommendations. ESPECIALLY for Chinese-fails and incorrect engineering/mechanical stuff in regards to the ship. I'm novice in both categories, and I'm not pretending to be an expert on either of them. Let me know if I'm inaccurate with anything.

Disclaimer: No characters or settings mentioned here belong to me. Instead, they hail from the brilliant mind of Joss Whedon. I'm just weaving my way through his 'verse, enjoying my time manipulating his wonderful cast of characters.

Badger leaned back in his desk chair, giving a crooked smile at the scene before him. There was nothing he enjoyed more than seeing Malcolm Reynolds backed in a corner, unable to argue his way out of bartering for what he took the liberty to assume was decent pay. There was no avoiding it; Badger just always had the upper hand. It was one of those fine privileges a businessman had when he got to be the one offering the hire, and looking dapper in his own tailored suit and bowler hat. Gave a cemented sense of superiority.

"Come now, Reynolds. We been exchangin' pleasantries long enough now to at least have come to some sort of economical understanding wiv' each other. Surely you wouldn't be plannin' on backin down from me enterprise now, wouldja? Can't say that'll bode well for that scrappy resume o'yours."

"If I ain't made it clear enough to you yet 'bout my standards, Badger, allow me to polish my statement with shoe shine: Either I get paid right and fair for whatever cargo I agree to transfer, or you lose yourself another go-to man, with a handful of teeth on the side." Mal's mouth formed a thin, rigid line; emphasizing the amount of rage he was holding back.

Badger's smug smile spread wider. "Your empty threats hold nothin' on me, Reynolds. In case you here've forgotten, I'm the one 'olding the deck of cards. Way I see it, the only one unable to bargain with anything in regards to income is you. I own the black market here at Persephone, as well as all its dealers. You? You've got yurself a washed out Firefly model cargo ship, and a small motley crew. Neither of which seem to be prospering too well wiv'out an employer such as myself to refer to."

Mal's eyes narrowed defensively at the mention of his dingy ship. The man always seemed to have a strange devotion to the battered space tub. Badger knew he had Mal pinned at that one. Ultimately any sum would do for him, so long as he had enough to help him scrape by until his next gig. His ship was literally falling apart at the seams. He took careful note of that when he first stepped aboard the ship awhile back on Mal's last visit. Happened to have a right pretty passenger residing there at the time, if he recalled well enough: Big, shiny, brown doe eyes; rivulets of dark hair cascading along her slight face...She was bit snarky, as he remembered it. But he preferred girls with a bite. Kept them interesting. A glimmer in the back of his mind couldn't help wondering whereabouts she was in the 'verse since their encounter.

"Last I checked, you were our commissioner, not our employer." Mal's stoic co-captain piped up. Zoe something-or-other. "We're freelance. Don't you be deluding yourself into thinkin' otherwise, Badger."

Badger glanced over at her and gave a wry laugh. "Izzat so, love?" He rose from his chair and rounded his desk so he could face the two of them head on. It was a right lucky thing that they hadn't brought their meat-headed crony Jayne with him. He could do without the inconvenience of his additional presence. "Sure seems to be a loose term, given the increasing difficulty you've been having findin' yerselves any method of receiving wages. You been waving my calls rather routinely these past few months. Seems a desperate enough act for me. It's suggesting that you need pay rather desperately. Best way I can ensure you to remain loyal to my cause, is to pay you bit by bit."

Mal's jaw clenched. "I ain't plannin' on being reduced as your indentured servant, Badger. I weren't lying when I said that I expect decent pay. You have a job, we do the job, we get paid. That simple. It ain't rocket science."

"No," Badger agreed. "It's business. And for the time being, I still have the better end of the stick. Make of it what you will, you need me, as well as a guaranteed income. I'm your best shot at gettin' that steady income, despite its meager amount."

Zoe arched an eyebrow quizzically. She understood that their argument would be a lost cause at this juncture. Scowling, Mal spat on Badger's shoe before turning his heel and stalking out of the room. "Didn't polish my statement well enough," He grouched, shoving past the guard at the door. Zoe cast Badger a final stern glance before silently following Mal out the door.

"Well, on the bright side," Badger murmured, looking disgustedly down to his slimed shoe, "at least he missed the Turkish rug. That thing's invaluable to me."

"Gorram it Zoe, I don't know what that Xi niao wu ming shao jwu thinks he is. But I ain't plannin' on lettin' him think he's the one in control of how we run things." Mal's strides echoed with the vehemence of his angered disposition. His seemingly permanent scowl deepened with his displeasure from their exchange with Badger.

"Didn't think you would, sir." Zoe responded calmly. Unlike Mal, Zoe kept a rigid, albeit passive countenance. Banters never bothered her much, on account of verbalizing had far fewer consequences than bullets tended to carry with them. No need to break reserve unless violence broke first.

The slums of the Eavesdown Docks was bustling with activity as it always had. Plumes of dust and engine exhaust puffed its way between the byways and buildings. Mal and Zoe weaved in between the chaos as they made their way back to Serenity. Still scowling, Mal walked up the gangplank into the cargo bay of his boat.

"Good morning, Captain." Shepherd Book acknowledged Mal as he strode angrily past him. Book raised his eyebrows inquisitively as his eyes followed after him. Zoe sidled up next to Shepard, placing her hands on her hips.

"We get any passengers?" Mal asked, continuing to beeline for the stairs, not bothering to look behind him as he directed his question.

"Well, not exactly, no. But—"

"Shiny," Mal ran his hand irritably through his hair. He slammed his hand against the rail as he ascended the grated stairs. "Just what I need. Zhen dao mei...Mei yong ma duh tse gu yong, wo pi gu cao …." Mal's voice faded with him as he stormed out of the cargo bay.

Shepherd decided to overlook the vulgarities Mal spat out as he ranted. He cast a sideways glance back at Zoe. "Safe to assume the meeting with Badger didn't end well?"

"Since when has it ever?" Zoe affirmed. "I'm gettin' a gut feeling that Badger's in a bind of his own. It ain't like him to withhold our pay like that. At least, not at that sum."

"And how much is that?"

"Enough to ensure that we'll barely keep Serenity in one piece until our next job offer." Zoe said unhelpfully. Dropping her arms, she followed in the direction Mal had gone. "Seal the door once Jayne and Wash get back; Mal wants us to take off within the hour."

"Where are we bound?" Shepherd called after her.

"Harvest," Zoe responded. Then she too was gone, leaving Shepherd alone in the vacant, spacious room.

Not even one crate of cargo to ship off...Zoe stewed a bit on that as she walked towards the cockpit. This is bad even for us. What could possibly be hinderin' our progress? Even Zoe knew that was a dumb question. The Alliance seemed to be the heart of every problem in the 'verse. She was more perturbed at the idea of how thoroughly the Alliance had cleaned the slate in the black market. Made their jobs a mite more difficult than they started; especially given the fact that they were housing refugees, Simon and River Tam. Their presence alone wheedled their list of suppliers and job offers. The Alliance surely already had that notion in their heads, and were bent on making sure that any and all source of further protection was removed entirely from their access.

Zoe perched on her husband's pilot seat, and activated their comm unit. "Wash," she voiced through the mic.

"Reporting for duty, babe." Wash responded. His voice was scratchy due to the excessive white noise; a generous gift from the poor signal that the slum lands harbored. Nevertheless, the sound of her husband's voice still managed to make Zoe's heart flutter. He sounded so ecstatic being out and about, not chained to Serenity's cockpit. She was not looking forward to his reaction when Mal would announce the verdict of their income.

"Mal wants us air bound within the hour. Try and wrap up your errand and get yourselves home."

"You got it," Wash replied. "Hey, you wouldn't believe it, but Jayne and I managed to get two canisters of liquid nitrogen for a good deal! We'll be able to chill food and preserve some protein-free meals! How's that for luck?"

Zoe smiled sadly, aware that his euphoria would be short-lived. Best to save the bad news for Mal to share. She didn't want to spoil his euphoria. "That's great, dear. See you when you get back."

"We'll wave you when we get close."

Zoe cut off communication and swiveled on the seat, passing glances at Wash's assorted nicknacks he had displayed around the cockpit. She wasn't able to be nostalgic for long, before Simon made his way onto the bridge.

"Ah, I thought you were back."

"Mal's surliness give my presence away?"

"Something like that. Listen, could I have you in the infirmary for a small check up? I just want to makes sure you don't have any hindering repercussions from the explosion last week." Simon requested.

Zoe nodded her assent. "Be down in a few."

Explosion...Not an event Zoe cared much to remember. Everyone had to abandon ship when the catalyzer failed to function and their air supply was on the brink of giving out. Without the funds to provide added mechanical security, how long would they last until the next disastrous malfunction? Zoe shuddered to think.

"Kaylee, you got a minute?" Mal, leaned into the doorway of the engine room.

The young mechanic was working enthusiastically in the vicinity. The whirring sounds of Serenity's engine was the only music Kaylee ever had ears for. The louder and more vibrant the noise was, the happier Kaylee was. It meant the ship was running true. It reminded Kaylee of the incessant purring of a large and satisfied cat. Unfortunately, cats were only owned by rich folk, and Kaylee hardly had a chance to rightly come across one to really have an accurate basis for comparison. But she'd heard enough hear-tell of what them creatures was like for her to always want one. She fancied Serenity fit their description right perfectly. Kaylee and Mal both treated Serenity as more than just a ship, or even a home. They had each personified Serenity as its own entity. A savior of sorts for Mal, and a pet for Kaylee to adore and tend to. If there was one thing that Mal and Kaylee could relate to, caring for Serenity was their number one priority for just about anything.

"Ni hao, Cap'n!" Kaylee jumped up from the floor where she'd been tampering with the compression coils . "How'd things go dirt side?"

"Less than fantastic," Mal responded drily, "How are we here?"

"Right shiny. 'Soon as I get those synchronizers , and some new nuts and bolts, Serenity'll be all dressed up and ready for another trip."

"I'm afraid the nuts and bolts are the best we can afford right now before we take off." Mal shifted his weight on his left leg, his eyes boring into Kaylee's.

He ain't joking, Kaylee observed. Her first instinct had been to laugh at his statement, as was her nature. But the seriousness of his expression showed Kaylee that he'd gotten them into another economic tight-ness. Her cheery disposition evaporated completely. " Yeh su...Zhen dao mei. You ain't joshin' are you?"

Mal's silence affirmed her question.

Kaylee exploded, "Cap'n, I been needin them synchronizers for months now! They're gett'n all rusted. Once they break down, our side propellers won't function together. And that makes fer some real messy landings and take offs."

"I know, Kaylee," Mal interjected, in attempts to quiet her so she could hear his case. "But they'll last us a while longer yet, specially if everything's braced nice and tight."

"Braced? Lemme tell you about 'braced'! Iffen I get my grimy hands on Badger's throat, I'll make it so that he gets stuck in one'o'those 'till kingdom come! Don't he know that we can't fly to run his errands without proper payment?

"Kaylee, this is a Firefly vessel. If you can function at half-awake to keep this old girl flyin', then there won't be no crash courses and imminent discomforts headin' our way. She'll stay true, 's long as she's bein' cared for." Kaylee was about to object, but Mal kept pressing on. "She made it back from Greenleaf to Persphone right fine, di'nt she? Shouldn't be too much trouble for her to take a route of similar distance. We're only headed backwards to Harvest; not a few blinks from Greenleaf." He paused, waiting for her reaction. Her eyes went downcast, unwilling to argue further. She hated to disappoint. Mal shifted to a softer tone. "Can you do that for me, Kaylee?"

Kaylee's expression twisted into a sour compliance. "Whatever you say, Cap'n." Mal departed, settled with the notion he had Kaylee in a better state of mind for their condition. Once Mal had left her sight, Kaylee kicked at a wrench that was laying near her feet by way of venting. "Ain't able to maintain her without maintenance supplies, though."

*TRANSLATIONS*

Xi niao wu ming shao jwu- Piss washed nameless little foot soldier (Or, nobody/small fry)

Zhen dao mei...Mei yong ma duh tse gu yong, wo pi gu cao- Just our luck...Motherless goat of all motherless goats, my ass is fucked

Ni hao- Hello/Hey there

Yeh su...Zhen dao mei- Jesus...Just our luck.