Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own any of these wonderful characters, or even the setting and world of Firefly. They all belong to Fox/Universal and Joss Whedon.
James Norrington and related belongs to Disney, Gore and Ted and Terry.
Setting: Takes place right after Down the Aisle
Pairings: Kaylee/Simon, Mal/Inara
Can’t Stop the Music
Chapter 13:
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James stared into the frightened hazel eyes of the young man. “Do not make any sudden move, nor say anything. I don’t want you to be beaten.” He turned back to the others. “Nor do we want any unwanted attention.”
“I don’t care what it takes,” Mal spread his arms. “Have Hawk march the unwashed guys first and you take the ladies. You already said half of em have been cleaned.”
“We were going to wait until tomorrow.” Lila said, and from the way she stood and glared at the captain, James could tell she didn’t like an outsider giving her any orders.
“No unwanted attention so far,” James turned back to the youth. “I am going to ask simple questions, just nod or shake your head. Do you understand?”
The teenager nodded his head.
“Your name is Apollo Driscoll?”
The youth nodded again.
“A friend of your sister’s explained what had happened on Eros. The two of us have traded secrets. Would you like me to explain to the rest of the crew?” James wanted to tell the Captain and the others, but knew he had to honor the request to keep the secret a secret if Apollo wishes.
The young slave opened his mouth, blinked and closed it before he nodded.
“Are the rest of these people part of your colony?”
Apollo shook his head.
“What of Hawk and Lila, were they part of the group that attacked you and forced you into this misery?”
Another headshake was his answer.
“What are you doing over here?” Cobb stomped over towards him. “Going ta get yourself even more moody by hanging out with them.”
“I am doing my job,” James answered through clenched teeth. “You are the one just walking around.”
“Jayne,” the captain called out to the oaf. “Why don’t you go and help the doc clean out the kitchen.”
“He don’t need help with the dishes,” Cobb answered. “He’s just ‘bout done by now.”
“Not just the dishes,” the captain pointed toward the direction of the galley. “The floor needs to be mopped; table and counters need to be scrubbed.”
Cobb’s face soured before he turned towards the stairs. “Least the doc won’t be happy either.”
James waited until Cobb had left and Captain Reynolds and Lila returned to their conversation before he turned back to Apollo. “You have another sibling, a brother?”
Apollo shook his head. “Sally,” he whispered her name back.
“I will see that you will be returned to Miss Driscoll and we will find Sally.”
Apollo smiled weakly and mouthed a thank you.
James grabbed the empty table and stood up, only to stare into ugly face of Hawk as the slaver emerged from the common area and passenger bay.
“What they arguing about now,” Hawk pointed a callused finger towards Captain Reynolds and Lila.
“The Captain and Miss Lila are arguing about the fact that only half of your cargo had been bathed properly,” James answered.
“Oh that,” Hawk chuckled before he raised his voice. “Hey Lila, you can’t fault em. They don’t want our cargo to stink up their ship.”
“Seems someone has already joined my wavelength,” Malcolm lowered his arms. “I just want the other half showered now.”
“He is invading into our business,” Lila glared.
“My ship is my business, and my crew has to work around your cargo, call me strange, but I want them to be able to breathe.”
“You aint strange at all,” Hawk said. “We’ll get this bunch nice and lathered up.” He turned to James. “Your captain has a way with words.”
“Agreed,” James nodded. He took one last look at Apollo before he climbed up the stairs to the galley.
-
Cynthia Driscoll removed a cool damp towel from the bucket the organizers had set up for her tent and used it to wipe down her face and pat it against her neck and arms. It had been an especially hot day, correction it was hot and humid, almost difficult to breathe and there were dark clouds on the horizon. She and the others were going to have to finish practice soon and make it back to the inn before the storm hits.
The committee had set things up for them quite well. They did not provide actual food outside of snacks and small bottles of water, nor actual shelter, but they had provided a list of cheap motels and inns. They had set up the tents, used exclusively for the competing bands to practice. On the outside they had resembled simple cloth, but the inside lining was made out of a material that pretty much sound proofed the area.
“Looks like some suits are walking around,” Dustin pointed towards a couple of people, dressed pressed slacks, crisp and clean shirts and bests with butterfly collars. They were stopping at each tent that was in.
“I wonder what is going on.” Amistance twisted off the cap to her bottle of water. “I thought they had all the official stuff down.”
“Maybe they are reminding us about the banquet tomorrow night,” Ray suggested. He was mopping at his head with another damp towel. “Or trying to warn us about the storm.”
“Anyone can see there is a storm approaching,” Alfie was checking the keys of his sax.
“It has to be something else,” Cyn grabbed her own bottle of water from the cooler. “Why else would they have the notebooks and such?”
“Maybe they are just checking a few details,” Dustin shrugged.
“Maybe,” Amistance answered. “We’ll find out when they come our way.”
They didn’t have to wait long, only half the tents were in use at that time and each visit lasted for only two minutes or less.
Cyn set her bottle down when the two committee members stopped by their tent. “Good afternoon,” she greeted.
“Good afternoon, Miss Driscoll is it?” The man asked. He was around his early thirty’s with his strawberry blond hair cut short and a pair of glasses on his nose.
“Yes sir,” Cynthia nodded. She still had no idea what was going on.
“And the rest of the band,” he did not look up from his notebook as he rattled off the rest of the bands names.
“Is there something wrong?” Alfie asked.
“There is nothing wrong,” the woman said. She had kept her mouse brown hair pulled up into a pair or messy buns. “We just need the name of your band.”
“Oh that,” Cyn felt herself relax. She knew that time was going to come up. “We have officially decided on a name and we are calling ourselves Jagger’s Ska Bebop.”
“Good name,” the woman sighed. “But it is too close to a band that just got signed to Fireside records a few months ago, Boogiepop Richards.”
“Do you have a back up name?” the man asked.
“Back in Time,” Amistance suggested.
“Another band has already signed up with that name.”
“Hells,” Dustin cursed under breath.
“Has Blue-“ Alfie did not get to finish. Amistance had clamped her hand over his mouth.
“What about the Reading name?” Ray asked.
“I don’t really like it,” Dustin shook his head.
“Well it is better than Alfie’s suggestion.”
“What do you mean it is better than my suggestion?” Alfie stepped away from Amistance.
“The name sucks.”
Cyn clenched her teeth as the rest of her band continued to argue. None of them were going to decide on the name and she was going to have to do it for them, although she also didn’t like any of the names that were being thrown around.
“Miss Driscoll, we do need an official name to take down,” the woman said.
“I know,” the words she had mentioned to Guadalupe a few days ago and returned to her mind. “We are the Royal Navy of the Caribbean.”
“That is your band’s name?” the man raised his eyebrows.
“Unless it had also been taken,” Cyn said.
“No it hasn’t,” he typed a few buttons on his notebook. “We have you recorded now.”
“Don’t forget about tonight’s banquet,” the woman smiled. “And be careful. It looks like a storm is approaching.”
“We won’t forget and we will watch the clouds,” Cyn nodded before she turned to her now quiet and confused band. “I hope you guys don’t mind.”
“We don’t,” Alfie blinked and tilted his head. “It does sound better than Blue Holes.”
“It does have a historical context too it,” Amistance smiled. “We wanted a name like that.”
“Yeah,” Dustin nodded. “Has a nice ring to it.”
“And it is unique,” Ray nodded. “No one else would have thought of it.”
“Which is why we got it,” Cyn grinned. They had a name, they have talent, and they also have chosen the song. All they needed was a bit more practice and they were going to be ready.
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Mal stuck his finger in between his neck and collar. He wished the material did not dig in so much, maybe if he undid a button he would be able to breathe, but he had decided against it. He wanted to look nice and impressionable to Inara, maybe then she would allow him inside her shuttle and they could talk. He had decided to wear the same ensemble he wore when he escorted Kaylee to that little gathering on Persephone a few years ago.
“Inara,” Mal gently tapped on the door. “I know you are still not pleased with me, but I was hoping we can have a nice civilized conversation.” He was still on eggshells around her, and had to choose his words carefully.
“I’m about to pray,” Inara answered on the other side.
“Does that mean we still can talk?” She hadn’t said no, or yes.
“If you promise to be a grown up, I’ll let you in.” She opened the door and froze. Her eyes did a look-over on Mal before they stopped at his hair, or rather Snowflake resting on top of his head. “Why are you wearing that wig?”
“It happens to be my wig,” Mal remembered to give it a dusting with an itch free powder. “And I am trying not to sully your shuttle.”
“It looks like you can’t be a grown up,” she started to close the door.
“I am not wearing this for any comical reason,” Mal stuck his foot inside. “I just want to speak with you.”
“Promise me you will remove your wig?” Inara stepped back, Mal had won that round with her, now if she would only let him speak.
“No problem,” Mal snatched the mass of white from his head. “Just as long as Snowflake gets to come inside.”
“I still can’t believe you named it.” She returned to kneel in front of her small alter. A stick of incense had already been lit.
“I kind of surprised myself as well,” Mal closed the door behind himself and placed the wig on a small end table. “I know you are still upset about the slaves, and I have already explained several times why I had taken the job.”
She did not say anything. Her eyes were closed and her hands were clasped together.
“I have already told the others,” it was an almost truth. He hadn’t informed Kaylee yet, because she refused to listen to him. Hopefully Simon would relay the news to her. “This is the first and the last time we are transporting slaves. If we land on a planet and there are folk with papers who want it outlawed on their planet I will sign it.”
“Thank you,” Inara said softly. “I still wished you hadn’t taken this job, but what is done is done.”
“I thought you were praying.”
“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t listening.” She rose to her feet. “I know why you took the job in the first place and you know I was angry with you but I was also angry with myself.”
“Why, because you weren’t with us to talk me out of it?”
She shook her head. “I have plenty of credit. I could have given you some.”
“You pay me ‘bout once a month for shuttle rental.”
“I should have offered earlier.”
“You were not there,” he grabbed onto her hands and stared into her deep brown eyes.
“Mal, the next time you are in financial trouble, don’t have enough food to feed the crew, or enough fuel I want you to tell me.”
“I shouldn’t have to make you do that.” He was not just staring into her eyes, but also her lush lips and leaned even more forward.
“You are not,” she squeezed his wrists. “I want to do this.” She rose on his feet.
Mal closed his eyes. He wanted to hug her, he wanted to pull her close, even kiss her, but he knew that would earn him a slap across the face.
“Hey Mal,” Jayne called from outside.
“I am needed,” Mal spun around and retrieved his wig before he left the shuttle.
-
James leaned against one of Serenity’s legs as he watched the slaves walk off the ramp like herded sheep. He kept his expression stoic until he saw Apollo, and even then he did not smile nor nod at the youth.
“Twenty eight slaves,” Captain Reynolds had counted each one. He stood next to a man with olive tone complexion and had a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache. “All of them nice and healthy, and two of your employees, also nice and healthy.”
“So it would seem,” their employer walked around each of the slave. He poked each one in the chest and examined their arms. “They do appear healthy, and as promised a thousand credits a head.” He motioned to another man who approached with a leather case. “You may count them if you wish. Each one is a 100 credit worth.”
Captain Reynolds opened the envelope and took out a bundle of credits. He slowly counted each unit before he took out another bundle and then a third. “All seems to be in order.”
“They cost one thousand to purchase?” James approached the two.
“Not quite,” the businessman shook his head. “They cost that amount to ship, to purchase would be a bit more.
James stared up into Serenity. Dr Tam and Kaylee stared back. He had informed them of what he had planned to do, and even told them the story Amistance had told him. He hadn’t told the others, except for River. He had to think of the plan before he could explain and a story about the lost colonists took time to tell.
“How much do they cost?”
“At least five thousand,” the man said.
“Commodore, what are you hinting at?” Captain Reynolds asked.
“I would like to purchase a slave,” James stopped by Apollo and pointed at him. “This one.”
“He is worth eight thousand.”
“I thought you have said they are worth five thousand?” James asked.
“Why do you want to buy one,” Zoë asked. “I thought you were against the idea.”
“Five thousand is the starting price,” the man said
“Commodore can we talk?” Mal approached him. “I am not traveling the verse with a slave aboard, and none of my crew is buying one.”
“I am buying freedom,” James whispered into his ear. “It is complicated, but I will explain to all once we are onboard.”
“Got the money,” Kaylee ran down the ramp carrying a small satchel. “Ten K is inside.”
The man accepted the satchel. “Lila I want you to count the money,” He turned to his shorter man. “Get the paperwork.”
James did not stare at the slavers of the still confused expression of his captain. His eyes met with the light brown eyes of Apollo. The first step had been made. He would just have to speak with the crew and hopefully the will come through.
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