What happened

City General was a busy little medical hub, something like what one would expect to see on those TV dramas about hospitals. Green scrubs and cold sterile white walls, the smell of alcohol and bleach, the faint buzz of florescent lighting and the low rumble of hundreds of voices made up the soul of C.G.

Tucked off in one quiet corner a dark haired woman lay in a clean clinically white bed, under clean clinically white sheets, in a clean clinically white gown. Inara Serra had been down graded to stable condition and awaited only a few blood tests before her release. The incident which had brought her in had raised more then one eyebrow in the C.G.E.R. She wasn't the first to come in, she had however been the first to be brought in alive.

A dozen or so like her were in the morgue, disturbingly three of those had decided to go missing a number of days after their arrival..and more disturbingly, their autopsies. Inara offered a chance the hospital had not yet seen and they jumped on it. While she was slumbering away her blood was being tested in every batch of blood work that they could think of. City General was about to discover the truth of the existence of vampires.

For her part in the matter Inara only wanted to be warm and safe and among friends. Perhaps that was what drew her in her dreams to the dining hall of Serenity. Warm friendly faces smiled to her and food..real food not just protein shaped like food, filled the table. Kaylee was smiling brightly, Simon seemed to catch her eye with a blush of his own. Zoe and Wash were doing some not-so-subtle flirting under the table, even Mal seemed in rare form. They were all there, regardless of Books death or Jayne's desire to leave or Rivers..being River.. all of the crew that had been was together. As joy full as she felt, something nagged in her dream mind that this was not quite entirely right.

(OOC: Ok, great for any Firefly'ers to jump into the dream. Even Dream himself. Feel free to take surreal turns with it. Feel free for others of the waking world to step in as well. Have fun!)

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Judge McRiley had the world's biggest headache. Between the trial itself and the pending end of it, his head was almost constantly protesting. His body was tense to the point that he thought he'd have to take a week off and fill it with near constant massages in order to relax his muscles.

They were so very close to the end of all of this.

He turned ot the jury and sighed heavily.

"We have heard the closing statements of the lawyers, and I believe that they have both made their cases as best could be done considering the situation at hand. I have decided to strike absolutely none of this from record, so in your deliberations, you are to take every bit of it into account. I want you to all consider long and hard what your decision will be. The results of this case will have effects on many, many people. An entire city, if you will."

He was silent for a moment, and then nodded, as if he'd made a choice. "It's unusual to do, but I'm going to request that there be no hung jury. You will have to make a decision one way or another, and I don't care how long it takes. This will not be dismissed."

McRiley banged the gavel once and stood. The bailiff couldn't do his duty, the judge left so quickly.

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It had begun like any other trial. Smoothly. Calmly. The judge entered and the people silenced. The baliff called for everybody to stand, and they did so, respectably. They sat just as silently, just as calmly when the judge called for them to do so. Judge Scott McRiley presiding...

It was just as the judge was settling in that the first mishap occured.

Jack Napier stood up to introduce himself to the court. And to the audience of people attending. He did so with a flourish and a bout of laughter so nerve-wracking that it took Judge McRiley a good ten minutes to quiet everybody down again.

"That is the last we'll have of that, I hope." He stated, looking Jack directly in the eye as he spoke.

Little did the poor judge know that this was only a pre-cursor to the sorts of things that could go on in a trial like this. A trial against Jack Napier. Maybe the only truly insane genius The City had ever seen. The misguided fellow might actually mistake to think he'd be able to control The Joker.

Jack himself spent a good few moments blowing kisses at Harvey Dent while Judge McRiley tried to call for order and the beginning of the trial.

He looked out at the lawyers and nodded. "Prosecution? You may begin."

And then he sat back, ready to hear this fantastic case.

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ooc; Mods, if this is not okay smack me a good one. Carla, I don't know if Zoe and Wash had a fixed address that the letter could show up at, but I am assuming they are hanging out and doing 'stuff'. So please feel free to smack me a good one as well if they aren't :)

The envelope had come out of nowhere; Wash had been peering into a store window, and than had turned to continue a stroll down the street and the envelope had smacked him right into the face. Momentarily blinded Wash had flailed his arms until the paper had been knocked free.

(In later retellings of this story this part would be re-cannoned into; Wash calmly reached up and removed the envelope from his face.)

The envelope now lay harmlessly on the ground, he paused to give it the patented Wash Look Of Distaste, he continued his walk down the street. A block or so later he stopped to look into a new store window and what his saw reflected back made him turn around.

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and...





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Please let me know if I've missed anyone, or if any other characters would like to participate.

Previously....

It shook, it rattled, but Zoe stayed firm. Grabbing for some odd part of the ship that stuck out on one wall, strong hands clutched it like a suicide handle and a fist punched the comlink as if it owed her money.

"Captain, he's not on the lower deck, the cabins are clear but I'll see him get to the aft choo fay wuh suh luh1," she growled, cocking the snub-nosed rifle in her hand with a spin and *chak-CHAK*. Dark eyes narrowed in the half light. Another punch to get the comlink working. "And might I make a handy suggestion that the next queer box we take aboard be dumped straight into the airlock?"

Lips pressed into a thin line, she laid her trap for the saboteur well. Tucked into a nook, she could see the entrance up from the stairs that would be the obvious route one would want to take if they were going to set this big boat adrift. Breathing steady, she counted, aiming her weapon well as the rest of the crew moved about searching for the stowaway. Unfamiliar footsteps started up the stairs. She heard Jayne shout, then fire.

Zoe went for it. The flash from the muzzle was blinding in the dark, causing her to wince as she caught whoever that was square. The ship jerked and rolled, as if it was the one who was wounded, pitching Zoe forward as she grabbed the armored villain and proceeded to pin him to the floor. He fought back, rather good for a man taking a point blank shot to the chest, and they struggled on the floor. What kind of body armor was this? What kind of operative was this? Weren't they above this kind of thing now? That kind of truth telling souls that lurks in the night rather than wrestle on the ground? She pulled back, getting a hand free long enough to punch him squarely in his face. "Stay down!," she told him in a tone that brooked no arguement.

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Once when he was a child of seven, Wash had had a very bad fever, he could remember the days leading up to it and he could remember the vivid, vivid dreams he had had. They had been about a talking clam. In other words they didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but they had seemed very real at the time.

They had seemed like this. This being the city that surrounded him, and while it seemed very real; it also didn’t make a lot of sense. A person didn’t go from landing a ship, to sitting on a park bench. Besides, he didn’t have a fever (far from it, thanks to the hole in his jump suit he was feeling rather cold) and he could remember feeling sick before the fever had hit. Maybe he had hit his head when he was landing the ship, had blacked out and –

"Wo de ma!"

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