text: [Themes: Science Fiction, firefly, fan fiction, heist]
  
  > look yourself
  As fine a specimen of manhood as ever.
  
  Currently I'm dressed in the black twinkly coat, the grey scratchy shirt, and the black kilt.
  
  > Go outside
  I emerge dressed in a black twinkly coat, a grey scratchy shirt, and a black kilt. "Well?"
  
  Simon blinks several times. "I-- yes, I suppose that works."
  
  "What's he supposed to be, a highlander at a wake?" Wash asks.
  
  "Keep your knees together when you sit. Those short skirts get drafty," Zoe offers.
  
  "How are we getting the painting out?" I ask.
  
  "You're not," Mal says. "You're going to leave it there."
  
  > press the space
  I don't see nothin' like that.
  Come again?
  
  > ask the questions
  "I know we've been moving towards a more user-friendly style of theft lately, but next you'll be wanting to steal stuff by maybe dusting and waxing it for the owner."
  
  "You don't wax paintings," says Mal, aside.
  
  Mal looks me in the eye. "You don't take anything out. There's too much security in the way. All you do is get back into the Display Room and tag the back of the painting with a micro-sized locator. That way you don't have to shut down the whole security system, just the one panel that senses if you take the painting off the wall. When you're done tagging, you turn security back on and everything looks right and shiny."
  
  Simon arrives from the passenger area. He's dressed real formally in black suit and a white shirt I'm sure wasn't on him when I went through his luggage that time him and River got taken by hill-folk. Guess he's been doing some shopping.
  
  He's also putting on some kind of lipstick.
  
  > Joke
  "No one mentioned the menfolk wear lipstick on this planet."
  
  "It's not lipstick," says Simon, screwing up the tube. "It's just a sealant."
  
  "Sure, good thought," says Mal. "Easy to get your whole face chapped, this kind of weather."
  
  Book gives Simon a long funny look but says nothing.
  
  Mal goes on. "When the painting is moved for assessment and storage -- which is scheduled to happen in the small hours of the morning -- we'll be able to trace it. Doing the trace during the wedding means there's the least chance for them to find the tag and take it off again.
  
  "Simon and Inara scoped out this security team, worked out their habits. They'll be using several decoy transports for a cargo this valuable, but if we know which transport is the right one, we can lift the painting from there."
  
  Inara and Kaylee arrive at last, both dressed up and glossy. "Good, appears that the primping and fussin' is over," says Mal.
  
  "You both look very nice," says Book.
  
  "Ain't got all night," says Mal. And so we're off.
  
  "Bad news," Kaylee says, coming to my elbow and talking low. "I had to ditch the tool kit in the potted plant by the door."
  
  I've been this side of security for ten minutes already, and I'm already wishing we were at a different party.
  
  This room is where everyone goes after they come through security, which is before you get to the real party. The fancier the party the more rooms you need to go through to get to it, evidently. Personally I like the kind that's held outdoors.
  
  Kaylee is standing close by.
  
  > ask the questions
  "You-- what? How in the fay-fay duh pee-yen are we supposed
  to do the job now?"
  
  "Fancy place like this, there's going to be something we can use to jimmy the security system and reset the wires," she says. "We'll just have to keep an eye open. But I didn't have a choice. Nearly got caught with the tools on me -- I only realized at the end they were running a full P-99 entry scan on the guests, and not just for weapons neither."
  
  "That don't seem hardly polite."
  
  "No! It's a full-body scan -- whoever's running security sees right through your clothes."
  
  "Everyone's?" Now that there's the kind of thing I ought to
  be doing for a living.
  
  A man in a purple jacket approaches. He's carrying a tray, and on the tray are a dozen or so full shotglasses. Stuck along the top of each one there's a metal stick with a cube of something on it.
  
  "Ooh, tasties," Kaylee says, taking one eagerly and handing another to me. The man bows and moves away.
  
  There's quite a pungent aroma rising from this thing.
  
  Kaylee pops hers in her mouth. "When you get it in your mouth," she says, chewing awkwardly, "you can't smell it as much."
  
  > Drink
  What do you want to drink?
  
  > Shotglass
  *** Run-time problem P10: Since the shotglass is not allowed the property "proper utensil", it is against the rules to try to use it.
  
  Oh, that burns. All the way down. Can feel the lining of my stomach.
  
  This party is going to be good.
  
  Kaylee swallows. "I think that might have been fish. Once. In
  another lifetime." She tips her shotglass up and takes a long drink. Her eyes go wide again, but this time she's quieter about it.
  
  > Smell sprig
  It smells like grandma. Not mine. Someone else's.
  
  Old Man Guest turns to his wife. "Odd that we were fobbed off with this table," he says too loudly. "I wonder who was in charge of the seating arrangements. And whether they were revised badly at the last minute."
  
  "I did think we were supposed to be at the Glitnirs' table," agrees his wife. "But then we wouldn't have met these charming people." She practically has to shout that last part for him to hear it.
  
  "I admire your good heart, my dear," he says.
  
  > Joke
  Mal made me swear not to say anything during the dinner course that I didn't absolutely have to. Think he made Kaylee promise to tell on me, too.
  
  > examine the old man
  Elderly fellow, very thin, dressed all in black. So much for all Simon's dressing rules. I think the old fellow's a bit deaf.
  
  > put the straw in the soup
  (first I'm gonna take the metal straw)
  
  That can't contain things.
  
  "You sure are a cute couple," says Old Lady Guest to me and Kaylee. "Where did you meet?"
  
  "Um, a different planet," says Kaylee. "We've known each other a long time now."
  
  > look at the old woman
  She's shrunk so short she's like half a person tall, and she's wearing some kind of purple dress with tiny lights all around the neckline.
  
  > examine the soup
  It looks thick, white, and creamy. Doesn't look much different from Blue Sun Cream of Wheat, to tell the truth, only there's a green swirl of pureed peas to look decorative.
  
  > examine the spoon
  It looks like any other custom-made gold-plated spoon, except there's a clothespin as part of the handle. Maybe so's you can take it home and hang up washing afterward. As a souvenir. There's a lavender sprig pinned onto the handle.
  
  "Did you see the bride gifts?" asks Old Lady Guest. "They're extraordinary. That painting... such an exquisite piece of work. No one makes things like that any more. The brushwork is so fine you can barely see it."
  
  "You didn't think it was a little... strange?" Kaylee asks. "I mean, the... pinching?"
  
  Old Lady Guest shrugs. "Manners change."
  
  > eat the soup
  (with my hands)
  Had a cat once that would dip its paw in a glass of water and then lick off the drops. Didn't seem sanitary.
  
  > get the spoon
  Got it.
  
  > eat the soup with the spoon
  I take a spoonful of the soup. By itself it tastes sort of ordinary, but the smell of the lavender kind of perks it up. Kaylee takes a sip of hers with her lavender-spoon and grins at me. Should've guessed she'd like her soup with flowers on it.
  
  Once I've got the sense of what to do I eat nice and hearty. Or as hearty as I can. They believe in small bowls on this planet.
  
  "Good to see that our hosts are ministering to the needs of the deprived," remarks Old Man Guest. I think someone told me his name but I forgot it.
  
  "Oh, are they?" asks Kaylee. "That's nice of them."
  
  Old Lady Guest smiles.
  
  Seeing that I've finished with my previous course, the ever-hovering waiters bring me a crab.
  
  "Do you plan to dance later?" asks Old Lady Guest of Kaylee.
  
  Kaylee looks at me, then says, "I don't know."
  
  I frown at her. No point in the girl getting ideas about making me embarrass myself. This day's bad enough already.
  
  > look at the crab
  It's a whole crab, claws and eyes and everything. I'm relieved to say that it is dead. Most likely there's some way into the shell, but I don't know what that is.