Zoë sat across the table from Mal, reading over the hefty stack of applications that her Captain seemed just as content to ignore in favor of the sparse stack that had made it through his initial glance and grab method. She hated the idea of renting out a shuttle, but her empty stomach and a month of tight rations had warmed her to the idea considerably. Serenity desperately needed the income, and she would do whatever was possible to push Mal to find a tenant more quickly. She sighed, discarding the application in her hand, adding it to her own rejection pile. After the tenth one, they all seemed the same to her – newly wed couples with a pipe dream and a one-in-a-million chance that they’d be able to make Serenity’s shuttle pay off a hundred fold. Most of them couldn’t afford a security deposit, let alone the first and last months rent that Mal needed in order to get the shuttle in working order again. Except for the Companion. How had this managed to get rejected so quickly? “What about this one, sir?” she asked, sliding it across the dining table to Mal. He touched it just briefly and slid it back, his face unreadable as stone. “No.” “Why not?” “I like this prospector,” Mal answered, holding out the application he’d been considering. “Man and his wife. Got a good head for what he’s doin’.” “But they can’t pay upfront.” “Once they finish their first job –” “We’ll all have died from hunger, sir,” Zoë finished sternly. Mal’s stomach growled as if to punctuate the statement. “I ain’t havin’ a whore on my boat,” Mal countered, his tone closing the conversation with finality. But Zoë wasn’t going to let this one go. “She’s the only one who can afford us.” “What about this couple,” Mal said, handing over another application, similar to the prospector. He was grasping at straws. “They can pay the security deposit and first month. That’s something.” Zoë skimmed it quickly and rolled her eyes. “Sir, they have a baby on the way. They’ll eat us out of house and home faster than a boat-load of Reavers and be behind on the rent before the kid is even born.” Mal’s nose scrunched only slightly, making a face that said he agreed and didn’t want to admit it out loud. Zoë pressed the Companion’s application toward him again. “She can pay everything we need upfront. So long as we take her places she can work, she’ll never be behind on rent.” “So our new work will be totin’ a whore from world to world? Zoë, I ain’t doin’ it.” “One night,” Zoë countered, stopping Mal before he really started whining. “At her rates, one night will cover a month’s rent. Give her a day out of thirty and we are made.” “How do you know about whorin’ rates?” “Tennant income. Application, line 32,” Zoë answered evenly, watching as Mal finally looked at the words on the application beyond the third line for occupation. He sighed in frustration and read through the remainder of it. “Maybe she thinks we’re some fancy luxury liner.” “I’m just askin’ that you consider her, sir.” “I don’t like whores.” “Companions.” “Makes it all the worse,” he said darkly. “I’m tryin’ to do honest work and hers is the least honest of all.” “Should I remind you of our last two jobs, sir?” A strange cloud of depression clouded Mal’s face as he looked from the application to Serenity’s barren food cabinets. Finally, without a word, he placed the paper on the very small pile of people to call back. Zoë looked hopefully at the promise of coin it held, then returned to the rest of the applications before her.

*~*

“Don’t know why we’re botherin’,” Mal griped as he and Zoë stood by the back door of Serenity, waiting for the Companion to arrive. “Because we’re desperate, sir.” “Desperate people can still have scruples.” “Scrupulous people can still die of hunger.” “She’s late. Maybe she decided not to come.” “She’s not supposed to be here for another ten minutes. I’m sure that’s her transport comin’ up the road now.” “Then she’s early and that’s just rude.” “Sir, perhaps I should show her around.” “Ain’t no one comes on my boat that I don’t meet ‘em.” “Just don’t drive her away with your excessive charm, sir.” “She’s just a paycheck,” Mal muttered, more for himself than for Zoë. The car stopped in front of Serenity, and a slender woman stepped gracefully out. She wore a two-piece black dress that glittered with adornments and showed off a flat midriff. As if to compensate for that immodesty, she wore a black veil that covered the top half of her face with lace and glitter. Zoë nudged Mal who had frozen by the door of Serenity with his mouth hanging open. “Captain Reynolds, I presume,” the woman said graciously, apparently accustomed to such irreverent gawking. “Yes, ma’am,” Mal answered, snapping out of it and bowing mockingly. “Malcolm Reynolds. This is my first mate, Zoë.” “Hello,” she greeted with a well-mannered smile. “My name is Inara Serra.” “Hello,” Zoë returned. “Long trip?” Mal asked sociably, motioning with one hand for Inara to follow him onboard. It was that patronizing, diplomatic voice he reserved for people who both bothered and intrigued him. The dichotomy of being simultaneously polite for business purposes and disrespectful of the person at the same time. Inara answered him courteously, ignoring his tone if she noticed it at all. Zoë imagined a woman in her line of work could easily read a man. Her eyes surveyed the cargo bay as Mal led her up the stairs. Zoë could tell she was trying to be critical, but at the same time had fallen in love with the ship. She’d seen the same look in Mal’s eyes a few years earlier when he’d first given Zoë the grand tour. With a sigh, Zoë figured she may as well start the paperwork now, because it was virtually beyond any form of reason to believe there was anyone else in the ‘verse who could fall in love with Serenity the way Mal had. And yet this Companion seemed to have done it. “Why don’t I show you around the shuttle, Miss,” Mal said to Inara, sliding the door open. Zoë took his nod and use of pronouns as a sign that she wasn’t invited on this part of the tour. With an inward smile, she headed toward the bridge to talk to Wash. Mal was humped and he didn’t even know it yet. Humped.

*~*

Zoë leaned against the console, enjoying the feel of Wash’s hand running up and down her thigh as they waited for Mal. He bound onto the bridge all smiles, handing Zoë a stack of cash, announcing proudly that the Companion would be moved on by this evening and they should probably splurge on something fresh for dinner. “Mal, you know she probably won’t be joining us for dinner tonight,” Wash quipped. “Or most other nights.” “All the better,” Mal agreed with a smirk. “Don’t think I could stand takin’ any more of her company than is required to get paid.” “What’s going on?” Kaylee asked, stepping onto the bridge. Mal pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her forehead happily, extracting an even broader grin from the young mechanic. “Kaylee, it’s time to fix the couplings on Shuttle 1.” “By when,” Kaylee yawned. “Tonight.” Kaylee laughed incredulously, then her eyes widened when she realized Mal was serious. “Oh… okay,” she stuttered and headed out. “Captain, where’s the rest?” Zoë asked, holding up the stack of money he’d given her. “That’s it.” “This ain’t the asking price,” Zoë countered. “It’s the price we agreed on.” Zoë rubbed her eyebrows tiredly, hungrily, extracting patience from Wash’s hand on hers. “Why is she gettin’ this discount, sir?” “Respectability,” Mal answered tersely, then grinned. “And like you said, Zoë, she’ll never be behind on the rent.” With that, Mal turned and skipped out of the room like a horny teenager. Zoë looked to Wash who raised his eyebrows, agreeing silently that Mal was humped. Tucking the money into her vest, Zoë leaned forward to kiss her husband and was interrupted by a disapproving grunt from outside. “I thought you weren’t coming out until dinner, Jayne,” Wash said loudly, inviting the mercenary in. Jayne climbed shiftily up the ladder. “I smell coin,” Jayne answered simply. “We will be eating well tonight,” Zoë assured Jayne, leaning happily into Wash’s arms as she spoke. “Tonight? What about now?” Jayne protested. “Stop ruttin’ around and let’s eat.” Zoë scrunched her nose disapprovingly, but her growling stomach was siding with Jayne on this one. Taking Wash’s hand, they headed for the cargo bay to take the mule into town, Jayne following them closely. The trio paused at Serenity’s door, looking back toward the open shuttle door as a particularly loud guffaw escaped Mal and echoed through halls of the ship. Zoë was suddenly glad she’d come across that application, and not just for the wad of cash now stuffed in her vest. Through the contentment of the moment, she heard Jayne comment, “Thought he’d forgotten how to laugh.”

*~*