SUMMARY: Pre-Firefly caper. Vague spoilers from Out of Gas flashbacks.

THANKS:  To, like, half of my flist, who inexplicably encouraged me to dabble in a new fandom.  Huge thanks to Em Meredith, for the handholding and the asskicking and, most especially, the double-checking of my cake-decoration skillz. ;)  Much appreciated. :)

***

Kermit the Ankylosaurus had Snuffy the Peace-Loving Stegosaurus right where he wanted him -- on the ground, about to be slashed to tiny little pieces by Kermit's giant--

"Hey, Washburne."

Wash jumped up, reflexively hiding Kermit and Snuffy behind his back as Zoe sprinted up the stairs and onto the bridge.  "What?" he yelped, glancing past her in search of the Captain.  "What's wrong?"

"Slight problem with the negotiations," Zoe answered as she topped the last step onto the bridge, not stopping until she was right beside him.

She glanced at the proximity monitors, but Wash waved off her concerns.  "We're fine.  Problem with the negotiations?" he echoed, puzzled.  He tried to get a sense of what was going on, but Zoe was pretty talented at masking her emotions.  For instance now, her brow was slightly furrowed, which could mean anything from Mal tripped over a pile of money and has a really bad papercut on his arm to Someone with a giant gun shot Mal and is on his way to the bridge to kill the rest of us and take Serenity.  Wash was hoping for something on the papercut-end of the panic spectrum.  "What kind of problem?"

"The kind of problem involving guns."

Guns?  Ai ya.  Hwai leh.  "I thought you were just delivering a few crates of provisions to a client."

"We were.  Only this particular chŭndàn took issue with the Captain's mouth, and, well," she shrugged, "things devolved from there."

"Things devolved into shooting," Wash surmised.

"Right.  Gunplay, threats, the usual."

Wash leaned a little closer.  "The usual?" he prompted.  Because he wasn't a big fan of guns.  Didn't really like them being pointed at him or anyone he liked, or anyone at all, really.  So it was a little worrisome to hear that guns might be a recurring theme of life on Serenity.

Zoe watched him closely.  "There's still quite a bit of tension out among the border planets."

"Right," Wash agreed.

"It pays to protect yourself," she noted, shifting so that the really big-ass gun at her hip drew his attention.

Much as he disliked guns, something about the confident way she wore the thing was compelling, and Wash found himself nodding his head with enthusiasm.  "Yes.  Definitely.  Protecting yourself is good.  Did you call the local law?"

"Was the local law doing the shooting," Zoe answered, the barest of smiles quirking her lips.

"Ah," Wash continued, somewhat distracted by a rare sighting of Zoe's smile, "so we are criminals."  Not that he had a problem with the concept, generally speaking.  After all, they were probably very Robin Hood about the whole thing -- stealing from the Alliance to give to the border planets had a certain appeal to it.

"We?"

Wash shrugged.  "Sounded less accusatory."

Her smile deepened into something truly breathtaking, and Wash had some difficulty paying attention to pesky things like words as she answered, "Let's just say that we don't always approve everything the law does, and the law don't always approve everything we do," Zoe answered.  She tilted her head, her gaze dropping to his hands.  "Are those dinosaurs?"

Wash glanced down at Kermit and Snuffy, still clutched in his grasp.  "Oh!  Oh, these?"  He held them up, scoffing.  "No, these are just..."

Zoe raised a single, eloquent eyebrow.  "Toy dinosaurs."

"Toys?" Wash sputtered.  "They're not toys, they're... mascots," he decided, turning to place them ceremoniously on the edge of the main console.  Kermit nearly did a header onto the floor, so Wash repositioned him, making sure they were both balanced before turning back to Zoe with a flourish.  "See?  Mascots."

Zoe coughed delicately to cover her laugh.  "This is a Firefly."

"Yes."  And a beautiful Firefly at that, despite her patchwork exterior and spit-and-a-prayer engine.

"So maybe dinosaurs as mascots ain't the most obvious choice," Zoe noted.

Crossing his arms, Wash nodded seriously.  "Ah, but a firefly would be too on the nose, don't you think?  Subtlety is very underrated in today's world."

Zoe gave a pointed glance to his mustache, then waved a dismissive hand, her entire body straightening into that unmistakable militaristic bearing.  "I need your help."

"Sure," Wash answered, eager to change the subject to anything other than Kermit and Snuffy.  He didn't really relish explaining that, sometimes, piloting a ship through the vast emptiness of space was kind of boring, especially when the rest of the crew had better things to do than entertain the pilot.  And boredom led to silliness, which almost always led to action figures, only he'd given away his prized Colonel Alliance figure (with the original plastic sword) to his bunkmate back in flight school, so he'd been forced to make do with Kermit and Snuffy.

"Hot-headed local sheriff bonded the Captain," Zoe explained, arms crossed over her chest.

It took him a moment to refocus on the conversation.  "Bonded?" he repeated stupidly.  "The Captain?"

"Yes," Zoe confirmed with exaggerated patience.  "And I need your help to get him out."

"Get him out?  Get him out of where?  Of jail?"  Wash took a step backwards, nearly toppling over the second console.

"Yes," Zoe answered.  Wash opened his mouth to reply, but she simply raised her voice and added, "Don't figure to be paying a ransom."

"So you're going to break Mal out of jail," Wash said, just to be clear, because maybe he'd misunderstood.  Maybe she needed his help getting Mal out of a well or even a steep ravine.  This was the volcano planet, right?  Maybe the Captain had fallen into a volcano.  Because that Wash could help with; a prison break, maybe not so much.  "And you want my help?"

"Yes." Zoe stared him down, using every inch of her statuesque frame to intimidate him into compliance.  In most other situations, Wash would find that incredibly hot.  Perhaps she could sense that, because Zoe shifted impatiently.  "There a problem with that?"

Wash considered his options.  He didn't really have any.  Not only was he relying on the currently incarcerated Captain for employment, but Zoe was a pretty fearsome warrior woman.  If she told him to jump, well, he would get his ass in the air.  "I'm not sure I'm the best choice for this," he warned.

"Well, that's just too bad," Zoe answered, arms crossed.

"Excuse me?"

"My choices are you or Little Mary Sunshine in the engine room," Zoe pointed out.  "I pick you."

"Aw," Wash grinned, "you shouldn't have."

"Go change and meet me in the infirmary," Zoe ordered.

"Change?  Why?"

"You need to be a little more forgettable--"

"Gee, thanks."

Zoe gave him a critical once-over, "You're not going planet-side in that shirt."

Running a protective hand over his blue-toned Hawaiian shirt, Wash gave Zoe an offended look.  "What's wrong with my shirt?"

"Nothing a small fire won't fix," Zoe answered, reaching for his arm to tug him off the bridge.  "But I'm more worried about your mustache."

"Wait!" Wash spluttered, slapping one hand over his mouth.  "Do you know how long it took me to grow this?  You're not touching my mustache."  Zoe didn't speak, but the look she gave him over her shoulder was answer enough.  "But I like my mustache," Wash said plaintively.

***

Twenty minutes later, a freshly clean-shaven Wash stood beside Zoe at the small armory near the cargo bay door.  He'd never known the stash of guns existed, but Serenity had all manner of hidden nooks and crannies, which made the "we're criminals" thing a little obvious, now that he thought about it.

"Here," Zoe said, handing him a giant gun.

The modified six-shooter was surprisingly heavy, and felt cold and a little menacing in his hand.  He must've been looking at the thing with a measure of skepticism, because Zoe sighed.  "You can shoot a gun, right?"

"Sure," Wash answered, nodding.  He tugged nervously at the non-descript khaki shirt she'd given him from the Captain's stash of non-descript clothing.  Thankfully, she hadn't forced him to wear any of the Captain's tight pants for this particular caper, but the long, dark overcoat made him feel really, really stupid, like he was playing dress up in Colonel Alliance's supercloak.  (Though probably Mal's coat wouldn't give Wash the power to disappear and reappear at will.  Which, considering they were attempting a jailbreak, wouldn't be the worst superpower in the galaxy right about now.)  Wash awkwardly stashed the gun in his holster.  "Nothing to it."

"Oh, wow!" Kaylee exclaimed, clambering down the central staircase to join them near the ramp.  "You look shiny without that mustache!"

Wash glowered at her, ignoring the snicker from Zoe.  "I feel naked," he complained, rubbing his bare upper lip with the tips of his fingers.

"In the Cap'n's big old coat?" Kaylee asked, still grinning at him, completely unaware of the smudge of dark blue coolant along her jaw.  "Brown's a good color on you."

"Very forgettable," Zoe added with a sly grin, ignoring Wash's look of death.  "Kaylee, you've got the ship while we're gone," Zoe ordered.  "No one on or off until you hear us come knocking."

"No problem, Zoe," Kaylee answered.  "Anything else I can do?"

Wash looked up, forgetting all about the gun dragging his belt down on one side.  "Oh.  Yeah.  Can you do me a favor and check the left thruster?  It's been a little tetchy of late."

"Hâo de," Kaylee answered, her smile particularly bright.  She liked nothing better than to spend a few quality hours with the ship's innards.  "Serenity's been feeling a little off-balance; maybe that's why."

"Thanks -- Hey, hey!" he squawked, turning back to Zoe, who'd reached into his coat and tugged his borrowed gun free without asking.  "Watch the hands!"

"You wish," Zoe answered, turning to the open space beyond the cargo door.  "Just a quick review.  This," she explained, thumbing a small lever on the side of the handle, "is the safety.  This is the trigger--"

"I know what the gorram trigger is."

"Thought I should start at the beginning," she commented with an amused glance in his direction.  "You point, you use the sights to line up your target, and you fire.  Aim for the chest -- bigger target -- and watch the kickback."  She did an unnecessarily flashy twirling thing with the gun so it landed harmlessly across her palm, handle pointing toward Wash.

"Right, right," Wash answered, reaching for the gun and ignoring her smug look.  "I got it."  He swept the năorēn coat aside with his free hand and began to holster the weapon.

"Hey!"  Zoe grabbed his wrist, her grip so tight it was almost painful.  Her wide brown eyes held him in place, and he was almost convinced he saw a bit of concern there.

"What?" Wash asked, his voice oddly tight and quiet.  He wondered what that was about, but couldn't seem to do much more than stare into her eyes.

"You might want to put the safety on if you're fond of your toes," Zoe answered, breaking the strange spell between them.

Beside them, Kaylee stifled a laugh in her sleeve.  Wash very deliberately lifted the gun, flipped on the safety, and then put it in its holster.  "Can we please get this over with?"

"Yeah," Zoe commented in a low voice, "that's the spirit."

Kaylee clapped him on the back.  "Good luck!"

"Thanks."  Almost against his will, Wash started to laugh.  It was absurd.  When he'd signed up for flight school, he'd figured he'd end up running some boring cargo ship on an endless, mind-numbing loop in the core somewhere, not piloting a patched-together Firefly for criminals.  Now he, Hoban Washburne, was sauntering off a gorram smuggling ship to go rescue his law-breaking captain from the long arm of the law.  And just to make things more interesting, it was entirely possible he was developing quite a dangerous crush on the gorgeous, deadly first mate.

As she emerged into the hazy sunlight, Zoe glanced over her shoulder at him.  "You gonna be okay?"

"Sure," he answered, still struggling with the remnants of what might charitably be described as nervous laughter.  As he stepped onto Hephaestus's dusty ground, he added a caveat:  "As long as I don't have to shoot anyone."

"Bye!" Kaylee called, palming the button that set Serenity's cargo door to closing.

Zoe waved at Kaylee, then swung up onto the bright yellow mule and gave him a pointed look.  Wash stopped beside her, trying to figure out how to phrase his objection.  Zoe grabbed hold of his borrowed cloak and yanked him up.  "You're not driving," she told him with a disturbing air of finality.

"But I'm the pilot.  Some would argue that it's kind of my job," Wash protested, falling awkwardly onto the seat behind her as she revved the engine and set them off toward the small outpost of Lemnos.

"Not today," she shouted over the engine noise.

"But I'm actually good at driving things," Wash protested, leaning forward so he could whine directly into her ear.  Her long locks tickled his face, and the feeling wasn't altogether unpleasant.  "Hey, maybe that can be my job -- I can drive into people instead of shooting them."

"Just hold on and shut your mouth," Zoe ordered, her amusement softening the order.

She took a corner at an unnecessarily high speed, nearly toppling him off the damn mules, since he'd ended up sidesaddle instead of seated properly.  On top of which, he was sitting on a particularly large fold of material, but every time he tried to fix the gorram coat, the mule hit a rock or a hole or a speed bump or something.  If he didn't know better, he'd think Zoe was doing it on purpose.  "Speed demon," he accused, just before she brought them to a bone-rattling stop on the side of the dirt road.  The dust that rose around them sent Wash into a coughing fit.

Zoe jumped down and watched him, her hands on her hips.  "Not going to be very good at stealth, are you?"

Eyes still watering, Wash climbed off the mule and staggered to her side, still choking a little.  "Neither are you," he argued, gesturing at the dust clouds surrounding them.  To be fair, the volcanic activity on Hephaestus made for some smoggy, dusty skies in any event, but a suspicious mind would take note of Zoe's dirt flare.

"C'mon," Zoe ordered, tugging at his sleeve.  She led him along the edge of the dingy little town, avoiding the villagers, and held up one fist when they reached the back corner of a small, poorly constructed building.  Wash obeyed the unspoken order to stop and glanced around to get his bearings, belatedly noticing the ridiculously forbidding back door and the iron bars on the small windows set high above them.

"Oh!" he brightened, gesturing upwards.  "Jail!"

When she answered, Zoe's voice was pitched so low he had to lean forward to hear her.  "Never been that excited to see a jail myself."  She tapped his holster through the thick material of the coat.  "Keep that in your pants unless there's trouble. Anyone comes by, you nod a greeting.  Anyone stops, you shout loud enough so's I can hear you from inside, and then you cover our exit."

Wash glanced over at the formidable door.  "Our exit?" he guessed, sounding a little feebler than he would have liked.

"You got it."  Zoe clapped him on the bicep so hard it hurt.  "I'll be back with the Captain."

"Great.  I'll just be here, waiting," Wash answered, feeling very, very out of place as he watched her disappear around the corner of the building.  "Yup.  Right here."

***

The Hephaestus sun didn't shine particularly bright, considering its rays had to make their way through airborne volcanic ash, but it sure was hot on this hellhole.

Or, Wash thought as he shifted uncomfortably, maybe it was the ridiculous coat he was wearing in the middle of what was apparently a lovely summer day on this gorram planet.  As tempted as he was to shrug out of the Captain's dark cloak, he didn't think loitering near the local jailhouse with a gun visible at his hip was his most brilliant idea ever.

Instead, he leaned back, propping one booted foot flat against the wall, and tried his hardest to look casual.  "Yup, that's me," he muttered, swiping a hand across his sweaty brow.  "Casual.  Just hanging out near the jail.  No particular reason why."

"'Scuse me?"

Wash jerked his head up, his gaze colliding with that of a fetching young woman in delicate white satin gloves, a complicated blue satin liànyīqún, worn ostrich skin boots, and a delicate pink parasol dangling from one wrist.  She slowed to a stop, her arms crossed, and fixed him with a dubious look.

He nodded silently, just like Zoe told him to.  The young woman glanced behind her, then moved a step closer.  "How do you do?" she asked politely.

Wash considered doing the silent-nod thing again, but didn't think it would work the way Zoe wanted it to.  Instead, he gave the girl what he hoped wasn't a shifty grin and greeted her, "I'm mighty fine, thank you.  And yourself?"

"I'll do," she replied, her bright green eyes scanning his figure.  "Nice day."

"Yes," Wash agreed.  "It certainly is."  She didn't answer immediately, and Wash had quite a time controlling the words bubbling up inside of him.  Everything from inanities like What's a nice girl like you doing on a planet like this? to damning denials like I know it looks like we're busting someone out of your lovely jail, but if we were, would I really be standing here talking about it? threatened to spill out.

"Warm," the girl noted, inadvertently saving him from himself.  She peeled off one white glove to expose her freckled hand to the sun's weak rays.

"Right."

Something shifted in her stance, and suddenly she looked less young-country-girl-out-for-a-walk and more threatening-and-suspicious. Wash swallowed a curse as the girl tilted her head and commented, "And you're standing there in a winter coat."

"Not winter," Wash countered.  "Fall.  Autumn."  He gave an exaggerated shiver.  "I'm fighting a bit of the flu."  He made a pretty pitiful attempt at coughing -- where was a good dust cloud when you needed to fake a coughing fit?  "I've been miserable these last couple days," he blathered on, "coughing, fever, chills, a touch of space dementia."

Her gaze flicked to the building behind him.  "I'm sure."

Maybe he was a hĕn jĭnzhāng derén, but she was starting to look suspicious.  Wash tried to ignore the panicky feeling in his gut and remember what Zoe'd said.  Make noise.  Make noise that she could hear.  Why the hell hadn't she specified what kind of noise to make?

"Who brought peace and prosperity, by unifying the galaxy?  Brave soldiers with purple vests, and honor deep within their breast," Wash blurted, raising his voice to make sure the song carried into the jail.  The girl's eyes narrowed, but she didn't seem to know what to make of the crazy, inappropriately dressed, warbling guy leaning against the jailhouse.  Good.  Wash turned it up another notch, sacrificing his meager musical talents for pure volume.  "So valiantly they did fly, and something, something," he fumbled, not quite able to conjure all the words, "ignorant countryside, with, something, dammit, and heads held high, these men--"

"Wash!" the Captain shouted, bursting through the back door with Zoe tumbling out after him.  "What the gorram hell are you doing singing that shé njīng song?"  He stopped, nose wrinkling in distaste.  "While you're wearing my coat?"

Shrugging, Wash opened his mouth to answer, but the girl clocked him one but good with her surprisingly sturdy parasol.  "Ouch!" he yelped, giving her an incredulous look as pain spiraled through his skull.  "What'd you have to go and do that for?"  Son of a chùsheng xai-jiao de xiang huo, but that hurt.  His teeth ached, she'd hit him so hard.

"Yeah," Zoe said, suddenly at Wash's side, one arm snaking around his waist to give him some support.  He pressed both hands to his aching head, barely noticing the gun Zoe had trained on the girl.  "What'd you have to go and do that for?" Zoe echoed.  "Hands in the air and turn around."

The girl looked like she was considering her options, but Mal stepped to her side, wrenched the pink parasol from her hand, and gave her a rakish grin.  "We can do this the easy way, or I can carry you over my shoulder an appropriate distance out of town and leave you to make your own way home."  He leaned closer, giving an exaggerated look of curiosity.  "Don't you have some trouble with tigers in the wild 'round these parts?"

"Tigers?" Wash echoed stupidly.  "Wild tigers?"  He glanced around in a bit of a panic, expecting to see giant fangs leering at him from the brush.

The girl spat in the dirt near Mal's feet, but flung her arms up in grudging compliance.  "Watch your hands," she warned in petulant tones as he reached for the modified bustle of her liànyīqún.  "My daddy's the sheriff."

"Well, then," Mal answered, flashing an amused look at Zoe, "your daddy's gonna need some ice for his head."  Before the girl could react with more than an outraged gasp, Mal yanked a small, pearl-handled six-shooter out of the folds of her dress.  "Ain't that pretty?" he mused, seemingly tickled by the tiny gun dwarfed by his hands as he tapped the girl's shoulder with the handle.  "Now walk nice and calm-like."  Mal gave Wash an exasperated look.  "All the girls in Lemnos, and you go and find yourself the sheriff's daughter?"

"She found me," Wash pointed out.  Glancing at Zoe, he added an acerbic, "Found me in my clever lookout spot."

Zoe kept her arm around Wash as they followed the Captain and his hostage toward the brush beyond the edge of town.  "You all right?" she asked, her voice pitched low.

For some reason, Wash felt it necessary to lie.  "It was nothing," he answered, straightening up and out of her grasp, wanting to prove he could walk under his own power.  Which was a bad idea, as it turned out, since he listed immediately to the right and would have toppled ass over teakettle if Zoe hadn't grabbed a handful of his stupid coat.

"C'mon, tough guy," she said, looping her arm through his.  "Let's get you back to the ship."

"Yeah," Wash muttered, willing his head to stop that incessant pounding.  His vision had cleared, which was a good thing, but he wanted nothing more than a giant dose of painkillers and a couple hours' sleep.  "I can do that."

Zoe muttered a curse under her breath, indicating the rough metal grate that served as a small cargo platform on the back of the mule.  "Got a pillow, sir?"

"He can sit on his coat," Wash volunteered, wincing as Zoe stopped his forward momentum without warning, jarring his aching head.

"My coat," Mal corrected, as he used the girl's pink parasol to wave Zoe and Wash toward the mule.  "You go ahead and get her fired up.  I'll take care of this one."

"Xiăotōu," the girl muttered, lifting her chin.

"That's Captain Xiăotōu to you," Mal answered cheerfully.

Zoe handed Wash up onto the mule, settling him in proper this time, and turned back to the Captain.  "Sir--"

"I'll catch up," he interrupted, accepting a length of cord from Zoe and testing its strength with a couple tugs.  "Promise."

For a moment, Zoe seemed poised to argue, then she glanced over at Wash.  "Fine, sir," she decided, "but we just busted you out once and as you may have noticed, it didn't go so hot.  Don't make us do it again."

Mal held up his hands, protesting his innocence.  "I will rightly be along just as soon as I hogtie the sheriff's daughter."

"Hurry along, sir," Zoe admonished, swinging herself up onto the mule.  She glanced over her shoulder.  "We're in a bit of a rush," she warned Wash.  "You might want to hold on to something."

Wash hesitated for a long, tense moment, then wrapped his arms gingerly around her waist.  Zoe touched his hand briefly, then fired up the engine.  Wash tightened his grip and closed his eyes.  And promptly snapped them open again, because mild dizziness plus careening mule equals extreme nausea.  Mercifully, the ride seemed a little smoother on the way back, and it wasn't long before Serenity came into view.  Zoe grabbed the mule's comm. device and shouted, "Knock, knock, Kaylee.  Two here, plus one on the way."

"Welcome back," Kaylee greeted, and in the distance, Serenity's ramp began its descent.  "Um, Zoe?"

Zoe held the comm. device up so Wash could hear more clearly.  "What's up?"

"I don't suppose the one on the way is on his way in a large hovercraft," she answered, sounding worried.

Zoe brought the mule to a halt thirty meters from Serenity, half-turning to Wash, but he was already jumping down.

"I'll get her going," Wash told Zoe, hooking his thumb in the general direction of the ship.  "You go rescue your man."

Zoe frowned at him for a moment.  "He ain't my man, he's my captain."  Before Wash could figure what to make of that comment, Zoe waved him toward the ship and said, "I'll be right back."

"Go," Wash said, turning to jog toward the ship, willing himself to ignore the way each step jarred his already aching head.  "Kaylee," Wash shouted, his voice echoing through Serenity's large cargo bay, "where we at?"

"Wash," she greeted, relief and worry in her voice as she appeared along the catwalk.  "What's--?"

"Zoe's getting the captain," Wash explained, taking the stairs two at a time to meet Kaylee up top.  "The hover's not ours.  Any ident?"

"Nope," Kaylee answered, trailing him down the hallway to the bridge.  "But, Wash, I need a little more time on the thruster."

Her words took a moment to register, as Wash was more concerned with the proximity monitor and the video feeds.  Definitely a large hovercraft, coming up fast from south of the town.  Might not be related to their little escapade, but he didn't like the timing.  Nothing on the vid yet, but probably--

Then he stopped, shook his head a bit, and squinted at Kaylee.  "What?"

"The left thruster?" she explained, pointing toward the engine room.  "Remember, you said--"

"I remember," Wash interrupted impatiently.  "What are you telling me?"

"That we don't got a functioning left thruster at the present," she said, visibly wincing in apprehension.

"Oh," Wash said stupidly, his headache growing exponentially worse in seconds.  "Okay.  Well.  That's a problem."

***

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Wash muttered, tapping the console with impatient fingers.  He had the ramp and airlock ready to go as soon as Zoe, Mal, and the mule made it back, but they were being incomprehensibly slow and--

"Knock, knock," crackled the comm. system.  Zoe.  Xiètiānxièdì!  "We're ten seconds out."

"Welcome back," Wash answered, breathing a bit easier at the sound of her voice.  "Didn't bring any wild tigers back with you, right?"

"Not likely," Zoe answered, still shouting over the mule's roaring engine.  "We're in chuántái."

"Got it."  Wash flipped the switches, then tapped the console some more.  He stared balefully at the comm. speaker, willing it to bring him Kaylee's all-clear so he could fire up the engines.  He knew she was working as fast as she could, but he really didn't want to sit around and wait for the unidentified hovercraft to identify itself as, oh, an Alliance patrol or maybe the local sheriff's armed and angry older brothers.  That parasol to the head was about as much violence as he had the constitution for just now.

It took less time than Wash expected for the Captain to appear on the bridge, looking tousled and more than a little impatient.  "We're not moving."

"Very observant, sir," Zoe noted, joining them on the bridge.

Mal nodded at the controls in front of Wash.  "Little giddyup right about now wouldn't be out of line," he observed dryly.

"Yeah, there's a bit of a problem," Wash answered, spinning the pilot's chair around to face them.

Mal crossed his arms over his chest.  "Problem?"

"Less a problem than a slight delay," Wash parsed, folding his hands carefully and waiting for the explosion.

"Delay?" Zoe echoed, echoing the Captain's vaguely confrontational stance.  "Zĕn mele?"

"Minor tweak of the left thruster," Wash explained.

"Tweak?" Mal asked, leaning forward a bit, as if he couldn't possibly have heard what he thought he heard.  "It's broken?"

"Well, it's being adjusted," Wash dissembled.

With a pointed look at the bleating proximity alarm, the Captain ordered, "Fix it on the fly."

"Can't," Wash explained, his gaze straying to the monitor.  The craft was closing fast, but at least now there was video.  He fiddled with the tuner, focusing the exterior cam on the hovercraft, groaning when he saw the side-mounted missiles.

"You sure about that?" Mal demanded.

"We can fly in circles if you'd like," Wash shot back, exasperated, "maybe even a nice spiral pattern, amuse and entertain the locals.  But if you're thinking we can clear atmo without the left thruster, you're fāfēng."

"Okay," the Captain answered, openly frustrated, "how's about we fix the gorram thruster and get the hell out of Lemnos before there ain't no one left to bust us out of jail?"

"Good plan," Wash answered with more than a little sarcasm.  "Too bad the thruster's in about fourteen pieces right now."

Mal activated the comm.  "Kaylee, what is this about a thruster?"

"I told her to look at it," Wash explained, not wanting the mechanic to take the heat for his request.  'Course, he hadn't expected her to dismantle the yūchŭn thing while they were off breaking the Captain out of jail, but what was done was done.

Mal gave him an incredulous look.  "Nĭ shuō shénme?"

"It's been acting up," Wash answered, a touch of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

"And you thought that now would be a good time for a pit stop?" Mal demanded.

"Cap'n," Kaylee answered, sounding breathless and static-y over the comm.  "I've almost got it back together again."

"You've got ten seconds," Mal answered.  He turned his attention to Wash.  "Then we're up.  This here's where you earn your pay."

Wash began the ignition sequence.  "I haven't actually been paid yet," he noted.

"You've eaten, haven't you?"

"So I'm earning my pay in protein bar form?  Because quite frankly, they leave more than a little to be desired, taste-wise.  I'd be happy to take partial payment in, say, fresh fruit form, but those bars..."  Wash paused his diatribe to flip the comm. on and ask Kaylee, "ETD?"  He glanced at the Captain.  "Seriously, I feel like I should renegotiate--"

Zoe stepped between them.  "Fly the damn boat, Wash."

He held her gaze for a long, intense moment.  "Yes, ma'am," he answered.  "Soon as I get the green light from Kaylee, we're atmo-bound.  Quick question," he added, keeping his voice as steady as possible.  "That hover's got heat-seeking missiles, right?"

Mal and Zoe exchanged grim looks.  "Right."

"Okay," Wash answered, nodding.  "Good, then."

"That a problem?"

"Only if they catch us."  He began the ignition sequence, the familiar routine calming his nerves and bringing the Firefly into sharp focus.  Even dull ache in his head faded to something manageable.

Kaylee shouted into the comm, "Go, go, go."

"Gone," Wash answered, throttling up Serenity and easing her off the ground.  He didn't wait to level off, simply turning the engine loose and heading for the hills.  Serenity wobbled, listing a little to the left, and Wash cursed under his breath.

"Uh, Wash?" Mal asked, keeping watch on the vid feeds.

"Kaylee," Wash hollered, "I thought you fixed the thruster?"

"I reassembled it," she answered, her indignation coming through loud and clear over the comm.  "Cap'n only gave me ten seconds.  I'm good, but I'm not that good."

Wash muttered to himself, adjusting the ship despite her best efforts to slip sideways.  "Just like flying a damn cài yòng dāhuáng."  Serenity was usually much nicer than this, responding to him with alacrity.  The hesitation he'd pinpointed to the left thruster wasn't so much reluctance now as it was downright stubborn refusal to respond until she damn well felt like it.

"I hate to be the voice of negativity," Zoe said, "but that hovercraft is closing fast."

The missile lock warning began to whine, and Mal leaned over, peering at the video feed.  "Son of a píngxīong xìngbiàntài."

"No worries," Wash said, relearning Serenity on the fly, so to speak.  He edged the throttle up, increasing her speed and maneuverability.  She was starting to react more predictably to his guidance, though she still had more hesitation in her than Wash was entirely comfortable with.  "There are mountains ahead," he observed, ignoring the muttering and curses coming from Zoe and Mal.

"Yeah, there are some real big mountains coming up," Mal agreed.  "How's about we hit atmo instead?"

"No, no," Wash answered.  Without looking away from the craggy peaks they were fast approaching, he lifted one hand from the stick, reached to his right and flipped the comm on, leaving it open to the engine room.  "Kaylee needs a little more time with the thruster," he explained calmly, "don't you, Kaylee?"

"I can't fix her while we're burning, but I can steady it a bit," Kaylee answered.  "Just give me a few minutes."

"We don't have a few minutes," Mal shouted.

"Sure, we do," Wash countered, easing the ship into a slow arc, with just enough lateral movement to evade the target lock for a few moments longer.

"Wash?" Zoe asked.  "Traveling a bit low, don't you think?"

The mountain range was coming up fast, and he didn't have the time or energy to explain, so he simply gestured vaguely in their direction.  "Sit.  Hold on.  Heat-seeking missiles."

He could feel their silent confusion, but thankfully they didn't pester him with further questions.  Which was good, considering he had his hands full trying to evade a hostile ship while piloting a tetchy, unbalanced Firefly through a mountain range.  The last thing he needed was anyone damaging his calm.

"Kaylee?" Wash asked, feeling a bit of drag on the left side of Serenity now.  Grimacing, he countered, easing off on the right burner a bit.  He had to give up a bit of speed to make the adjustment, and the proximity alarm increased its frequency as the hover gained on them.

"Two minutes," Kaylee answered, breathless and stressed.

"We don't have two minutes," Mal warned.

"It's okay," Wash murmured, easing Serenity lower as they topped the foothills.  "We just need to keep them off-balance for a few more minutes."

"Is there a reason you're flying into the mountains?" the Captain asked, his voice tight.

"Yes."

A beat, then Mal demanded, "What reason?"

"I'm flying us into the mountain range," Wash answered, pausing while he adjusted the throttle, ratcheting down a bit as they squeaked through a narrow pass, "because I believe that somewhere in this mountain range," he focused on looping around a snowy peak, "I will be able to find a volcano."

It was Zoe who spoke this time.  "A volcano?"

"A volcano," Wash confirmed, glancing at the missile-lock sensor, guessing that he had about ten more seconds before they acquired Serenity.  Likely, the hover craft would fire, then peel off before they got too far into the mountain range.  They didn't really have the maneuverability for rough terrain.  "And I'd prefer to find one sooner rather than later.  Care to help?"

Zoe and Mal moved forward until they were practically pressed against the windshield, scanning the mountaintops for a telltale cup of boiling lava.  They were partially blocking Wash's view, but he was concentrating on the sensors and monitors, searching for a hot spot.

"Good thing," Wash observed in soothing tones even as he urged Serenity hard left, nearly nicking a nasty-looking jagged cliff, "the terraforming didn't take so well here on Hephaestus."

"Yeah," Zoe answered sarcastically, bracing herself against the small guardrail along the edge of the windshield, one hand wrapped tight around the free console.  "Good thing."

"There."  Mal pointed at a wispy column of smoke rising in the distance.

"Good, good," Wash answered, breaking right as the hovercraft gained missile lock.  He didn't spare a glance at the monitors, flipping off the shrieking warning before it could shatter his fierce concentration.  "Perfect timing," he noted as the hover craft fired its missiles.

"We got burners coming," Mal noted bleakly.  "Wash?"

"Just..." he said, easing the throttle up, "sit... tight."  He sent up a silent prayer to his ancestors that Serenity would maneuver well enough to keep them all from a fiery death, then banked down and to the left, heading directly for the mouth of the bubbling volcano.

"Wash!" Zoe yelled.  "What are you doing?"

"Performing..."  He jerked right, ignoring the missiles screaming their way ever closer as he secured his seat belt.  "...evasive maneuvers."

Serenity reached the lip of the volcano, and Wash pushed the stick all the way forward, ignoring their momentary weightlessness as she began to dive into the steam.  Zoe and Mal left their feet for a second, crashing into each other and the ceiling of the bridge before landing roughly back on their feet.

"Wash," Mal shouted, bracing his hands on the ceiling, "what the--?"

Easing the stick right, Wash brought Serenity around, hugging the wall as she circled the pool of boiling lava below.  It was nerve-wracking, given the ship's sluggish handling and the volcanic steam obscuring his view every couple of seconds.  Trusting his instincts and the monitors, Wash managed not to slam them into the walls of the volcano, and just as he'd intended, the two missiles were blinded by the blistering volcanic heat and plunged into the fiery pit, one after another.

A glance at the proximity monitor satisfied Wash that the hovercraft had peeled off long since, and he began angling Serenity up and out of the volcano, praying that she'd react well for just a little bit longer.  As they broke straight up, emerging from the blinding columns of steam, Serenity listed to the right, nearly clipping the lip of the volcano as they cleared it.

Wash exhaled, easing Serenity to a kinder angle, letting her recover a bit.  "Kaylee," he asked, calm as could be, "how're we doing on the thruster?"

As his focus widened to include the rest of his surroundings, Wash glanced over at Mal and Zoe, who turned twin wide-eyed looks of shock his way.  He couldn't help the smug grin that crossed his face.  "Heat-seeking missiles," he explained.  "Volcanoes are hot."

Mal blinked, still breathing hard.  "You just flew my ship into a gorram volcano."

"True enough," Wash answered.  "But I think the more important part is that I flew it back out."

Over the comm, Kaylee's satisfied voice announced, "We're good for atmo, Wash."

Wash glanced at Zoe, then Mal.  "Shall we?"

***

"Hey," said a sultry, familiar voice.  "I need you right now."  Wash grinned, reaching for her long, lean body and coming up empty.  "Get up," Zoe's voice repeated, sounding impatient now.  "We need you to land this thing."

Opening his eyes, Wash was slightly disappointed to find himself sprawled on the couch in the lounge, Zoe towering over him, her hands on her hips instead of on his--

"Māde!"  Wash sat up suddenly, wincing as his head protested.  He clapped a hand to his temple.  "Ow."

"Still hurts?" Zoe asked, sounding sympathetic.

"Uh, yeah."  He looked up at her and hoped to God he wasn't blushing as he recalled a few of the more explicit details of the dream she'd interrupted.  "Landing?  Did you say landing?"  He eased himself to his feet, hissing when his shoulder protested the position he'd slept in.  "Because maybe I should--" he gestured vaguely toward the bridge, desperate to get away from her before she figured out what had left him so damn flustered.

"Captain's waiting for you on the bridge," Zoe said.

"Right," Wash answered, nodding a bit too enthusiastically.  He took a couple steps, then turned back, not quite able to meet her eyes as he asked, "I wasn't--" he waved at the couch-- "saying anything, right?"

Zoe raised her eyebrows.  "Nightmare, huh?" she asked, but something in her tone told him she had an idea exactly what he'd been dreaming about.

"You know what?  Nothing," he stammered.  "Never mind.  So, the Captain?  Right."

"I'll get you some painkillers," she said, touching his arm as she moved past.

For a moment, Wash stood stock still, watching her retreating form.  That was new.  She'd been subtly hostile since his first day on the ship, and now she was offering to get him painkillers and touching his arm?  On purpose?  "Huh."

Wash put that observation in a small box along with his wholly inappropriate dream, and headed for the bridge.  "Cap'n," he greeted.

"Wash," Mal answered, swiveling in the pilot's chair.  "Good.  We're coming up on Olympia and that yìzhì jiānjué girl is dead set on plundering some used parts place down there to fix the gorram thruster.  Care to put her down?"

"Sure, sure," Wash agreed, stretching carefully.

Mal stood, grabbing a scrap of paper with coordinates on it, and handing it over.  "Fēijī qĭjiàng chăng's here," he explained.

Nodding, Wash took the vacated pilot's seat and eyed Olympia, coming up fast.  "Little overeager on the velocity," he noted, easing the throttle back and adjusting the stabilizer.  "Good thing you woke me."  Wash flipped a few switches and punched in the coordinates, preparing Serenity for breaking atmo, somewhat belatedly noticing that Mal was still standing there, watching him.

He glanced up, but it was Zoe beside him, not Mal.  And she was doing that half-smile thing, and holding a couple caplets and a mug of -- he sniffed -- coffee.  Wash grinned.  "Bless you, woman."  He downed the drugs and drank the coffee as fast as he dared, given its temperature and his slight preoccupation with guiding Serenity through the delicate, potentially explosive process of breaking atmo.

Kaylee popped her head in as he brought Serenity in for a petal-soft landing on Olympus, "That was some fancy flyin', Wash."

He shut down Serenity's engines and turned in the seat, clasping his hands over his abdomen.  "What, this?" he smirked.  "Landing ain't nothing, Kaylee."

She laughed, rolling her eyes at his false modesty.  "You took us on a tour of a volcano, Wash!"

"And you missed the whole thing," he pointed out with an exaggerated lift of his shoulders.  "Guess we'll have to do it again some time."

Zoe raised an eyebrow.  "I'm gonna go with no."

"Spoilsport," Wash countered, his smug smirk widening when Zoe ducked her head to hide her answering grin.  That woman had a hell of a smile; too bad she didn't seem to smile very often.

"Take it your head's feeling better," Zoe observed, gesturing for him to follow her and Kaylee down to the cargo bay.

"Not perfect," he answered, falling in behind them, "but it never was to begin with, so..."

Kaylee snorted over her shoulder.  "Y'all need anything planet-side? I'm taking the mule to the scrapheap."

"Take the Cap'n," Zoe suggested, starting down the staircase, raising her voice to be sure the Captain heard her.

Mal looked up from where he was fiddling with the mule.  "Take me where?"

"Anywhere, sir," Zoe answered, breezing past and heading down the ramp, "so long as you're far away from me."  She tossed a quick smirk over her shoulder so he would know she was kidding.

"Hey!" Mal protested, hands on his hips as he followed her.  "What'd I do?"

"No, no," Kaylee smiled and headed for the mule, shoving Wash toward the ramp as she went, "I'll take care of the mule.  Don't worry about me."

Mal halted partway down the ramp and turned back to Kaylee, "Ain't like you dislike fiddling with motors," he noted, exasperated.

"That's my Cap'n," Kaylee teased, "always thinking of his crew's happiness."

Smiling in spite of himself, Mal waved off her remark and trailed Zoe out into the sunlight.  "And I was a perfect angel today, right up until that chŭndàn pulled a gun on me!"

Wash followed the Captain and Zoe a bit uncertainly, choosing to stay near the bottom of the ramp while they wandered off a few paces, surveying the desertscape around Serenity.

"You said he was wánquán yúchûn," Zoe noted, sounding more amused than annoyed by the whole thing, even if it did end in gunplay and jailbreaks.  "And while you know I always appreciate your keen sense of humor, maybe local bigwigs," she shrugged, "don't."

"That guy was actually wánquán yúchûn."  Zoe glowered at him until the Captain threw up his hands.  "'Twas purely an observation of character."

"Considering we don't have much in the way of muscle, sir, perhaps you should keep your less flattering observations of character to yourself when dealing with small-time arrogant sheriffs."

Wash blinked.  "Hey, I have muscles!" he protested, a mite offended.  "I can stay conscious and flying in forces up to G-7, and that, my friends, requires some serious muscles!"

Zoe gave him a baleful look.  "Can you fire a gun?"

"Yes."  And he wasn't lying, either; he could fire a gun.  Just had some trouble with the hitting the target part.

"Really?" Mal asked, turning to include him fully in the conversation.

"You point and you shoot," Wash answered, intentionally echoing Zoe's earlier advice as he wandered closer to her.  "What's so hard about that?"

Zoe stared at him for a moment, a smile tugging at her lips, before turning back to Mal.  "Sir, I really think--"

"I can handle a gun," Wash interrupted, serious now.

Arms crossed, Mal studied him for a long moment, before he turned and strode back up the ramp onto Serenity.  Frowning, Wash looked back and forth between Zoe and where the Captain had disappeared.  "Um, should I follow him?" he asked her.

With a resigned sigh, Zoe shook her head.  "He'll be right back."

"You sure?"

"Trust me," she told him, and their gazes locked and held for a long, vaguely uncomfortable moment that left Wash's breathing a bit unsteady.  "It's not that I don't think you've got the heart to be out there with us," Zoe explained, stepping closer.  "But you're putting us all at risk if--"

"You say you can handle a gun," Mal interrupted, striding back down the ramp with a pistol in one hand and a coffee can in the other.  He walked several paces out into the desert, selected a particularly tall cactus, and balanced the bright blue can on its branches.  Turning back, he walked up to Wash and offered him the pistol.  "Show me."

"Sir?" Zoe asked, moving closer.

"What," Mal glanced at his first mate, "the target's too big?"

"No, sir," Zoe answered.  "There's still some coffee in the can and maybe we shouldn't waste it on target practice."

Mal lowered his voice and leaned closer to her.  "He ain't gonna hit the target, Zoe."

Offended, Wash drew himself up to his full height and proclaimed, "I could hit the target."

Mal gave an exaggerated courtly bow and moved out of the way.  Wash took a deep breath and lifted the gun, holding it in one hand.

"Wait," Zoe said, stepping right up beside him.  Wash gave her a wide-eyed look, but she reached for his free hand and brought it up to cup the handle of the gun.  Then she met his gaze.  "Steadies your gun."

"Ah," Wash answered intelligently, his gaze stuck on Zoe until she stepped back and nodded at him.  Target.  Shooting.  Right.  With a small shake of his head, Wash settled into what he thought was probably a good shooting stance, lifted the gun, squinted at the coffee can, and fired.

And missed.  Badly.  To be totally honest, he wasn't sure the bullet hit anything until it ran out of speed and hit the ground, a few hundred meters from where he stood.

"Okay," he said over Mal's raucous laughter, "but I'm not going to be shooting coffee-can-sized people, right?"

"Give me the gun," Zoe ordered, holding out her hand.

"But," Wash protested, turning to her to plead his case.  "I--"

"Until you can hit the side of a barn, no guns," she warned, tucking the pistol into the waistband of her pants.  Wash found his gaze lingered probably longer than was strictly appropriate on that particular image.  Damn, but she had a beautiful waist.  And a beautiful everything else, really.

"Cap'n?" Kaylee asked, roaring down the ramp on the mule, only to come to a screeching halt beside them.  "Fixed it," she said, patting the mule with genuine affection.  "You comin'?"

Mal nodded at her, then turned back to Zoe and Wash.  "Kaylee and me are going scavenging.  While we're gone," he told Zoe, "maybe you could teach him how to shoot."

Zoe's mouth dropped open.  "But, sir--"

"No time like the present, Zoe," Mal interrupted, swinging up to sit behind Kaylee on the mule.  "We're grounded until the little one can rig up a left thruster."

"Right," Zoe answered.  She turned to Wash as Kaylee and Mal roared off.  "So," she began.  "Shooting."

Nodding a little too emphatically, Wash said, "Yeah.  Shooting."

Their gazes caught and held again, until Zoe looked down and pulled the pistol from her waistband.  "No time like the present," she murmured, repeating Mal's words.  When she met his gaze again, something had shifted in her expression.  If he didn't know better, he'd think she looked almost... enthusiastic.  No, not enthusiastic.  Maybe impatient.

"Okay, then," Zoe said, waving him closer.  "I need you to stand right here."

Obeying, Wash nodded some more.  "Good.  Good.  Right here."  He stopped where she'd directed him to, keenly aware of just how little distance remained between them.  He could feel her inching closer, and accepted the proffered gun, brushing his fingers along her palm as he did so.

"Stand still," she murmured, her hands gliding down his back, pressuring his spine until he straightened up. "Good."  She tapped the edge of his thigh.  "Spread 'em."

"Excuse me?" Wash squeaked in a very unmanly kind of way.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  "Why?"

"Better balance," she told him, still moving behind him, her voice low and warm and, if he didn't know better, rather intimate.  Finally, her hands landed on his shoulders, easing them back.  "Good," she decided, letting her fingers trail down his biceps, along his forearms, until her chest was pressed against his back.

"Tiānna," Wash muttered, his eyes slipping shut.  He had no idea what was going on, but this sure as hell didn't feel like a gun lesson.

Zoe's hands settled over his, bringing the pistol into position, steadying his trembling fingers.  "Don't pull the trigger," she counseled, still using that indescribably sultry tone.  "Squeeze it.  Treat it gently."

Squeeze it.  Gently.  Wash forced himself to open his eyes and pay at least token attention to the cactus he was supposed to be shooting.  It was really, really difficult with a lithe warrior woman plastered to his back.

"Wash?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

"Yeah?" he managed, sounding like he'd just run a couple kilometers.

"Plannin' to fire this thing anytime soon?"  She sounded pretty damn pleased with herself.

"Having some trouble concentrating," he admitted, and immediately wanted to perform seppuku.  To head off any uncomfortable questions that he couldn't possibly answer, Wash glared at the cactus and pulled the trigger, inhaling sharply when the gun reared back.  The acrid smell of gunpowder made him wrinkle his nose in distaste.

"Better," Zoe encouraged, still stuck to his back.  Not that he was complaining.  Confused, yes.  Complaining, emphatically no.  "Wash?" she said, her breath skittering along his neck until he shivered.

"Yeah?" he wondered, waiting for her to point out that although he'd hit a cactus, he hadn't hit the right cactus, and maybe she should give up this lesson because he was hopelessly bad at guns anyway.

"I'm gonna kiss you now."

His mouth dropped open, and he couldn't for the life of him come up with a reply.  Wash stood there, rigid, as she shifted behind him, urging his arms down, prying the gun from his nerveless fingers, circling around to face him.  "Hi," he said stupidly as she came into view.

Zoe smiled, derailing his thoughts completely.  "Hi," she answered.  And then she leaned in and kissed him, her gun-free hand reaching up to cup his cheek.  He kissed her back with unrestrained enthusiasm, somewhat belatedly looping his arms around her to pull her closer.

When she broke the kiss, Wash tried to come up with something intelligent and witty to say, but managed only, "Wow."

She smiled widely, and lifted the pistol into his view.  "I think we should put this away."

Wash blinked, a little thrown by her idea of a followup to that mind-blowing kiss.  Maybe it hadn't been so mind-blowing for her.  "Okay," he answered uncertainly.

Zoe tilted her head toward Serenity, her free hand dropping from his shoulder, trailing down his arm until her fingers tangled with his.  "It's from the Captain's stash," she said, taking a step back toward the ramp, "but I think maybe I should keep an eye on it until he gets back.  Wouldn't want it to get lost."

Bewildered, Wash stared at her and tried not to sound disappointed when he said, "Sounds like a plan."

"I have a safe," she told him, tugging him toward the ship with a small, knowing smile on her lips.  "In my quarters."

Wash's eyes went very, very wide.  "Oh," he said, stumbling a little.  "Oh!"

Zoe lifted an eyebrow.  "Oh?" she asked, and it was her turn to sound a bit unsure of herself.

Wash slipped his free arm around her waist and yanked her up against him.  "Yeah," he muttered against her lips.  "Oh." And then he kissed her.  Voraciously.  Pouring every last bit of wanting into it, even if he'd only very recently discovered that the complicated mix of awe, respect, and a tiny bit of fear he felt for her was, well, wanting.

Laughing, Zoe broke away from him and grabbed his hand, leading him up the ramp.  "Oh, yeah," she said, striding in that way she had that drove him to distraction.  "So glad I shaved that damn mustache."

It took a moment for her words to register, and then Wash yelped, "Wait, what?"  He backed her up against the edge of the staircase, trapping her with his arms and leaning in close.

Her grin was positively devilish when she admitted, "Don't like kissing men with mustaches."  She punctuated that declaration with another searing kiss, and it took Wash a moment to regain the thread of their conversation.

"You!" he accused, letting his hands wander a little along the curve of her hip.  "You shaved me with ulterior motives!"

"Damn straight."  Zoe lifted an eyebrow.  "You gotta problem with that?"

"It is high-handed and devious and sneaky," he told her.  "And that's why it's surprising that I actually find it kind of hot," Wash added, grinning stupidly.

Laughter was her only answer as she led him to her quarters.

THE END

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Glossary of Chinese:

Ai ya. Hwai leh: "Shit on my head."

cài yòng dāhuáng: rhubarb.

chuántái: berth.

chŭndàn: stupid bastard.

chùsheng xai-jiao de xiang huo: animal-fucking bastard.

fāfēng: crazy.

fēijī qĭjiàng chăng: landing field (plane).

hâo de: okay; will do.

hĕn jĭnzhāng derén: nervous wreck.

liànyīqún: woman's dress.

māde: fuck!

năorēn: annoying.

nĭ shuō shénme? What? (incredulous).

píngxīong xìngbiàntài: flat-chested pervert.

shé njīng: screwed up, psychologically.

tiānna: Oh, God!

wánquán yúchûn: completely stupid.

xiăotōu: thief.

xiètiānxièdì: Thank God!

yìzhì jiānjué: strong-willed.

yūchŭn: stupid.

zĕn mele: What's the matter?