A/N: I do not own Firefly. That's Joss Whedon's. I have been happy to discover because it allows me to explore fresh stories in the 'verse, through reading and writing.

I do not own Mass Effect. That's Bioware's. It's a truly phenomenal game series.

Please feel free to read and review. This is my first attempt at a story of any length.

"I'd be delighted to attend, Donovan Hock." Inara said with a smile.

"Wonderful!" the man's face lit up. His wealth was evident from his attire and proper speech. "I look forward to our time together."

"Until then. Take care." the companion said.

"Certainly." Donovan responded.

His image on the console disappeared as the call ended. Inara wasted no time peering over her shoulder.

"How long have you been standing there?" Inara asked. The pleasantness in her voice completely replaced by annoyance.

"What?" Mal poked his head into her doorway. "Is that an invitation in to your shuttle?"

She glared at him for a second, then stood up and waved him inside. He sauntered in, thumbs under his suspenders and big smile on his face, evidently really pleased with himself.

"So...," the captain said. "You managed to find a decent fella out in this le-se pian of a system?"

Inara eyed him suspiciously. He was a little too smug. "Actually, yes." She answered. "And we will arrive at an opportune time. He is a well-respected businessman and famous art collector. He will be holding a social gala in a couple days' time." She moved to the couch as she spoke and began tidying up her tea service. "The only attendees will be other members of high society."

"Ah!" Mal said. "I love parties where the premise is to show other rich folks just how rich you are. Such a delight for you? Are you attending to be another display of his wealth and fortune?"

"He has asked me to come a day earlier than the party. I will be fulfilling many more… roles… than that." She stated her rebuttal with a playful grin.

"Such a pity you're the only one on this boat fitted for fancy parties." Mal responded.

"It is a good thing you have not been invited," Inara said with exaggerated arrogance. "Not really your kind of outing. Viewing art while sipping wine… I'm afraid you'd find it terribly dull. A common thief would feel completely out of place among high society in any context let alone…" Realization dawned on Inara. "Mal!" Her tone took on an air of scolding. "You will not come to this party!"

Mal, leaned up against the wall with his arms folded in front of his chest, just shrugged and feigned confusion.

"Mal!" Inara repeated, as though he wasn't listening. "Donovan Hock's estate is no place for you or any of the Serenity crew. You do remember what happened last time you arrived unannounced to do your dirty work at a ball held for nobles?"

"Good ol' 'Ath'. What a sport!" Mal reminisced.

"Atherton nearly gutted you, Mal! Do be serious!" Inara was horrified to remember the time Mal nearly met his end on the wrong side of a sword. "You must promise me that you will not interfere this time. Keep your business dealings to the back alleys and remote border planets where they belong."

Mal nodded, fingers crossed behind his back. "Cross my heart. We'll just drop off our cargo as scheduled."

"Thank you," Inara said. "Now if you please… I have things to do." She turned her back to him to return to her client console.

"'Course." Mal backed out. "Been a pleasure."

Mal obeyed Inara's request and left her shuttle. He had just been wandering past when he overheard the conversation.

Donovan Hock, he thought to himself. THE Donovan Hock. What a shiny opportunity!

This time his steps were purposeful. He knew who he wanted to find and where to find them.

"You want to ask Mal if we can spend shore leave on the Citadel?" Zoe asked, calmly incredulous.

"Yes! I've never been and it's just across the Serpent Nebula." Wash said.

"Just want to check my understanding." Zoe said. "You want to ask our captain to fly Serenity, a transport vessel used for smuggling goods, to the capital of the Council -a place crawling with Alliance soldiers, C-sec officers, diplomats, the like- and just leisurely pass the time?"

Wash shrugged and nodded. "Yeah…"

"Honey, we've got fugies on board. We've got…"

Wash interrupted her train of thought. "I ain't suggesting we waltz in, arms linked, with those two. Nor anyone else. I'm talking about you, me, and some quality time together in a place that don't smell of manure or blow dust into places the sun don't shine."

Zoe smiled.

"A little sophistication would be a nice change." Wash continued. "Get a little culture."

"What 'culture' does the Citadel got that we're lacking?" Zoe humored him.

"Hmm." Wash thought. "They have ramen. Have you ever had ramen? I heard it's a delicacy back on Earth."

"Salty noodles?" Zoe crossed her arms. "I need more than that."

"They got motion pictures." Wash said. "Last time we caught a vid it was Blasto 2: Back in the Black. Remember how ruttin' awesome it was? Now they're up to Blasto 5 or something."

Wash put together his hands in a makeshift gun and said in hanar-speak: "This one wishes you would enkindle this!"

"That ain't culture." Zoe shook her head.

"We could always share drinks at one of the clubs while we dance." Wash suggested.

"Rather get impaired in the safety of my bunk."

"You're right." Wash finally conceded melodramatically. "I guess I'll just go alone. Pick up the latest version of Galaxy of Fantasy. Or maybe see if Sha'ira, the consort, has any openings…"

"You won't!" Zoe playfully attacked Wash from behind.

Their laughter and play-fighting turned to kissing just in time for Mal to enter the cockpit. He quickly covered his eyes. "Don't y'all have personal quarters to get busy in?"

"Those same four walls get monotonous after so many years." Wash said. "Sometimes us married folks gotta change things up a bit."

Zoe laughed and hit Wash behind the head playfully. "We're not, Sir. I'd never distract a man while he's working."

"Good to know we ain't all gonna crash and die on account of two married people's urges." He responded.

"You come up here for a reason, Cap'?" Wash asked. "Other than enjoy the show?"

Mal nodded. "Yes… Yes!" He remembered why again. "We need Jayne up here first though."

"On it." Wash said. He paged Jayne to the cockpit. It took a while before he arrived.

"What in the shen de ming-zi is so gorram important that I have to stop in the middle of my workout to come up here?" Jayne griped as he entered the cockpit, sweat rag dabbing his forehead.

Mal watched him enter. "Well, I'll speak my piece quick since we only got upwards of three minutes 'til the whole cockpit starts smelling like the inside of Jayne's bunk."

"What do you mean?" Jayne rung out his rag. "Is it gonna start smelling like gun oil and women up here?" He gave a devious smile and a grunt of a laugh.

Wash lifted a finger and opened his mouth to protest the sweat puddle, but Mal cut him off.

"We got work." Mal explained enthusiastically. "That's why I called you up here."

The three failed to show an ounce of excitement. Mal looked around at each of them as if he had just delivered the punch line of a joke and awaited his laughter.

"We know the plan, Sir." Zoe said, arms crossed. "Ain't sure I see why dropping off cargo in the middle of the dusty plain of a backwater moon like Odessa has got you grinning like a coyote found the chicken coop left open."

"Not that job." Mal waved it off. "That hardly passes as real work. We ain't had real work in too gorram long. I'm talking 'bout another. An honest-to-God heist."

Jayne smiled big. "Like… An honest-to-God payday?"

"Y'all ever hear the name 'Donovan Hock?'" Mal said, an even bigger smile teasing his face.

"Sure have." Wash responded, seated at the helm. "Less than 5 minutes ago when you promised Inara you'd keep your captain's quarters to yourself."

"What?" That stole Mal's thunder. "Are you spying on me?"

"Of course not! Just innocently wandering by when I suddenly had to…" Wash looked around for an alibi. "Tie my shoes… For a few minutes. Long enough to hear you promise Inara you'd keep your scheming on your designated rock."

"She didn't designate rocks." Mal clarified. "She just don't want me 'interfering' with her date. Don't worry. Hock won't find me on her side of the bed. She'll have her space."

"Ah," Zoe said. "So we've learned one thing about this Donovan Hock. He's a client." Then she added sarcastically, "That don't complicate things none."

"Ohh! I like the sound of that!" Jayne let out a childish laugh. "If he can afford Inara's rates, he must be stupid rich."

"This Hock got a job lined up for us?" Mal's second-in-command tried to put the pieces together.

"Ain't quite." Mal said. "I know we usually take work from folks who's willing to pay for smuggling and the like, but work's been scarce lately, or ain't paying good enough for a whole crew's rations. So, I'm taking the bull by the horns on this one. Hock is the job and I'm the schemer."

Zoe eyed him. "Run that by me again."

"Ah, hell, Zoe!" Jayne spoke up. "Cap' knows what he's doin'. I'm on board."

"Thank you!" Mal said. "Some enthusiasm. See, Inara don't seem rightly informed. She thinks he's just another art-loving dandy. The kind of client she's used to. But this fella... Let's just say he ain't above cracking a few skulls if it lines his pockets and he's left quite a few bodies in his wake."

Zoe's expression spoke volumes regarding her skepticism.

"That don't sound like Inara's taste." She said. "You certain this is the same man?"

"Positive." Mal said. "Donovan Hock has quite the reputation as a smuggler and weapons dealer among the 'low-lifes' such as ourselves. Probably why Inara has only heard the 'patron of the arts' side of the man. Either way, man's got a stocked vault full of priceless goods. He's throwing himself a party to brag to his rich friends about his being richer. And he's pure scum to boot. Don't you see? It's perfect! Ain't nobody gonna cry about a wangba dan losing a few valuables."

"Sounds like a dangerous sort, Mal." Wash pointed out.

"I reckon so, but that ain't nothing new." Mal shrugged.

"Don't a vault make things complicated, Sir?" Zoe asked, still skeptical. "And Inara? You do remember the last time you showed up in her world unannounced, don't you?"

"Ah, I remember." Wash said, as though conjuring up a fond memory. "'Captain Tight Pants was almost skewered by the blade of a s-what? What was that word? Sword. Yes, that's it. Would've been a poetical way to go."

The three chuckled at Mal's expense.

"Wha…" Mal started. "Almost. Have you all forgotten that I won that duel? Besides, I've learned my lesson." Mal straightened up. "I ain't as impulsive as I used to be. I promised not to get in Inara's way and I won't. My plans don't involve her anyhow. She won't even know I came. Won't know none of us came. This stays amongst us, understand?"

Zoe and Wash eyed each other. Jayne rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation.

"I'm ready to get planetside and see some real action! Plus a little money ain't hurt nobody." Jayne stated excitedly. "Tell us the plan."

"We might as well hear it." Wash said to Zoe, rather intrigued.

Mal pulled up a seat and spoke low. "First, we gotta get to his estate without being seen…"