The disclaimer is that Firefly and all of its original pertaining characters, bits, and bobs belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and no self respecting fan would ever try and claim otherwise.

“Come in! Come in, please.”

Mal and Zoë exchanged a look as they followed the man into the large office. Zoë’s brows were drawn together and her mouth was tightened at the corners. Mal was wearing a pleasant smile. Each one had known the other long enough to understand that neither of them was pleased with the situation.

Zoë had been unhappy from the moment Mal had told her he’d decided to take the job. She’d been with the Captain too long to make the mistake of thinking he was stupid or crazy. She knew he had a special mix of the two, but it was a stupid-crazy that had kept them flying this long, so...

The plans that he’d made over the years had put money in their pockets and fuel in Serenity. She just wished that when Mal was making some of his captainy decisions he would try to figure in how to get a job done without shooting or stabbing or brushes with Feds or being outgunned or anything else that resulted in them getting the short end of the stick.

In fact, she’d brought up that very point earlier that morning over a mug of what passed for the local brew on Harmony.

“So you don’t like my plans, is that what you’re saying?” Mal had said, as they sat drinking in the dirty bar that could have been on any number of rim planets. He was talking a little fast the way he always did when he was feeling tetchy.

“Not at all, Sir,” Zoë replied

Zoë was an amazing woman. Mal had always thought so. And while he sat there drinking some warm almost-beer he could see the gears in her head cranking out exactly what she should say to make him see her way of things and have him feel good about it all at the same time. She called him “Sir.” She didn’t make too much eye contact to make him feel threatened, but just enough to keep him from going on the defensive. It didn’t make him angry, knowing all of this,