Trouble in Paradise

Lodi wasn’t entirely sure how she’d ended up working in this border moon dive. One minute, she’d been headed for the big time, the man said, Core-bound with her name in big shiny lights. The next, she was broke and alone with no way out. But she supposed it could be worse.

The Flying Dutchman was named after a mythical ship said to have sailed the seas of Earth-that-was. It was appropriately named since it mostly catered to spacer crews on leave after months in the black. They were grubby and half space crazy and stank of recycled air. Lodi was glad she didn’t have to actually talk to any of them like the rest of the girls. She was paid to look pretty while she sang and played her beat up old guitar Friday through Sunday nights. It wasn’t really her type of place, dirty with who knew what staining the floor, just a way to make cash until she had enough money saved up to buy passage on a boat. Didn’t matter if it wasn’t a fancy Greyhound like she’d come in on. All she wanted was to get home.

One night, she took her break and walked over to the bar for something to wet her throat. A glass filled with some fruity green thing that was her drink of the night slid down the counter towards her. Lodi caught it with an expectant hand and took a cautious sip.

“Trouble in Paradise, huh?” asked a gruff voice. She looked up and saw the somewhat scruffy man that came in every few weeks on the stool next to her. She only remembered him because he was always polite, didn’t smell and the other girls said he tipped well. He pointed at her glass.

“Drink’s called Trouble in Paradise.”

“Is it? Jessie’s always giving me new drinks to try but doesn’t always tell me what it is first.” She took another sip, rolling it across her tongue like it was fine wine. It was sweet at first and then the alcohol burned its way down her throat leaving a sour aftertaste to pucker her mouth. “This one’s not so bad.”

“My girl liked ‘em.” he said, sadly. “Cute little thing, long brown hair, big brown eyes, looked a bit like you, now that I think on it some.”

“Well, if you’re looking for company, you might try Brandy over there.” Lodi jerked her thumb over her shoulder, indicating a brunette across the room, flirting with a table of men whose eyes couldn’t move above her ample bosom. She was laying it on thick and the guys were lapping it up but Lodi knew for a fact that Brandy stuffed her bra. “I’m just the singer.”

“I ain’t looking for company like ya think.” He held up his left hand and ran his thumb across the plain gold band around his fourth finger. “Just want someone ta talk to and ya got a pretty voice.”

“Yeah? Where’s your wife then?” Lodi hoped the woman would pop up soon and drag her husband back to their boat. The spacer seemed nice enough but she still didn’t want to spend any more time around him than she had too.

“She ain’t comin’.”

Lodi shot him a dirty look, thinking he was one of those types.

“It ain’t like that. She got herself tangled up in some mess ‘fore I met her. Came back an’ bit us hard a few weeks back. Some guys in suits got ‘er. Didn’t even have a chance ta get a shot off ‘fore they was gone.” He stared down at his big paws like they’d betrayed him. Lodi guessed he was some kind of gun hand. Most mercenaries were liable to get a little touchy about those sorts of things.

“An’ her gettin’ snatched ain’t even the worst part.” He knocked back what was left of his whiskey before continuing, the glass thudding against the bar as he set it down. Lodi supposed that listening to the spacer pour his sorrows out was better than having any of the other sleaze bags try to chat her up. And apparently he had a bit of a reputation too, some of the guys trying to make eye contact while she was singing were looking away now that they saw who she was talking to. “The worst part is, right before she was taken, we’d been fightin’ and she ran off the boat ‘fore I could stop her. Don’ even remember what we was fightin’ ‘bout no more.”

“Wasn’t there a ransom or anything?” She took another sip of her drink. Its name was quite appropriate, now that she thought on it some.

“Not that kind a deal.”

“So why aren’t you out looking for her?” she asked.

The man got a feral glint in his eye that made Lodi very glad she was not one of the men who had kidnapped his wife. “Them suits picked the wrong man ta mess with. Jayne Cobb’s the best tracker ‘round these parts. They’s a bunch a slippery bastards but me ‘n my crew, we got a lead on ‘em. Takin’ off tomorrow ta see if we can get a lock on ‘em this time.”

She glanced down at her watch. Her break was up. “Well, Mr. Cobb-“

“Aw, just call me Jayne. What’s yers?”

She flashed him a small smile. Funny name but she didn’t really have room to talk.

“Name’s Lodi” She replied before sucking down the rest of her drink. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the bar owner pointing to the stage with a frown on his face. “Good luck with your search, Jayne.”

~*~ A few months later, Lodi had finally saved up enough platinum to buy herself a ticket off the rock. On her last night she packed up her guitar and said goodbye to the other girls at the Dutchman while Jessie made her one last drink for the road. She hadn’t really gotten close to them but they had been familiar faces in a time when she’d been down and out and that counted for something.

The next morning found her walking down junker row, looking at the destinations listed next to all the ships that were taking passengers. Most looked disreputable despite the fact that they were headed where she wanted to go. After escaping from some truly persistent barkers, she continued down the dock somewhat discouraged, until she came to the last ship. It still looked like it could use some work but it was certainly better maintained than any of the boats around her. Hopeful now, she walked over to the sign board.

“Howdy.”

She turned to face the cheerful woman who had greeted her. “Hello.”

“Ya lookin’ for a ride?” asked the redhead. “Cuz this here’s the smoothest boat in the ‘verse.”

“Really? She doesn’t look like much.” remarked Lodi, not wanting to seem too eager.

“Oh, she’ll surprise ya.” the woman twirled her brightly painted parasol. “Ya ever sail in a Firefly?”

“I can’t say I have but you’re headed for Greenleaf and that’s where I want to be.”

“Well, shiny! Let me call Jayne and we can get yer bags into the passenger dorms.” She turned and yelled into the hold of the ship. Turning back to her, the woman grinned. “This is gonna be fun! It’s been a while since we had any girl passengers on board.”

“What ya yellin’ for, Kaylee?” A familiar man, clean shaven now, appeared out of the darkness of the hold, followed by a slim, dark haired woman. Lodi was surprised to see Jayne, who hadn’t been back to the Dutchman since they’d talked. She had written him off when she hadn’t seen him for a few months. It wasn’t unusual. After all, spacers were always getting themselves dead and mercs more so.

“Lodi!” He sent her a happy grin that she returned.

“Hello Jayne. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“We ain’t been round these parts fer a bit. There’s someone I’d like ya ta meet.” he turned to the woman standing slightly behind him. “River, this is Lodi, remember the girl I was tellin’ ya ‘bout? The one with the really nice voice?”

River smiled and nodded. “Welcome to Serenity.”

Comments always make me happy and make me want to post more fic.

This was actually written before "A River Turned to Dust" but I thought I'd try a dark/light posting pattern and put the other one up first. And because every one likes a happy ending (except for maybe my subconcious brain), you can now read this as a sequel, if you want. :D

And no, you're not imagining things, Lodi's character is based off a song of the same name by The Creedence Clearwater Revival.