I don't own 'em, I'm just playing.

This one's opposite of how they usually go: the main story follows the humans (Mal and Kaylee), and the little tag at the end is from Steggy and Monroe.

I do intend to continue this, once I figure out a suitable Plan M.

*******

"OK. We got power goin' here, an' ain't nothin' wrong with these wires here. So if I cross the feed from here to here, then....ow! Gorramit!" Kaylee dropped her screwdriver and stuck her hand in her mouth, narrowing her eyes as she shook off shock number three. That damn power supply was still alive, but stubbornly refusing to do its job - namely, provide power to the pilot's console - and she'd been at it for several hours now. Frustrated and out of other options, she reared back and gave the plating a solid kick. Maybe she could jar something loose.

"You bangin' up my boat, Kaylee?" Mal popped his head in through the door, drawn to the area by an assortment of mechanical whines, human grunts, and a rather inventive string of Mandarin cursing. He gestured to the now slightly dented panel. "I mean, I 'm fair sure plenty of parts fall off this ship without you helpin' 'em along, so I'd take it as a kindness if you leave me some hull when you're done."

"Pft." Kaylee rolled her eyes at him, but didn't do anything to disuade him visiting. She could use a break. "It's called 'percussive maintenance', Cap'n."

"Percussive maintenance?"

"Yeah. The fine art a beatin' the crap outa somethin' 'till it works again. Kinda like you hafta do with Jayne." Kaylee punctuated her declaration with another whack to the machinery before sighing heavily and sitting in the pilot's chair. "But seriously, I don't get it. It's got power" - she held out her hand to Mal, who took it and frowned at the small burn marks but resisted the impulse to run for the burn cream - "but it don't seem to actually go anywhere."

"We expect the power to go somewhere? Ain't it supposed to stay inside the wires?"

Kaylee gave him the "you moron" look tha