Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, much as I wish they were... all credit goes to Joss Whedon and, (grudgingly), FOX.
A/N: This is my first multi-chaptered fic, so I'm still getting the hang of planning plot arcs and stuff. Due to an extremely busy school year ahead of me, I won't have a hell of a lot of time on my hands, but I'll try and update at least once a month. Thanks for reading!
Glass Castles
Chapter One
Extract from the diary of Simon Tam, dated February 16th, 2516:
Work still hard to find now that many of Serenity's contacts have been slaughtered by the Operative and, by extension, the Alliance. We pulled a heist on another core planet hospital last week in order to pay the bills, but without the necessity of examining River, I felt extremely uncomfortable taking from those who are ill and injured - it seems a violation of my oath.
I have kept quiet for the moment, though, as the Captain has been in a foul mood all week. The fact that we had to turn a job down because of the Alliance probably has something to do with it, but Kaylee thinks that it's more to do with Zoe. At one point in the heist, while entering with the supposed 'cadavers', she just froze. Stared at the wall until Jayne kicked her in the shin, and even then she barely snapped out of it in time to avoid arousing suspicion. I'm no psychologist, especially with women (as previous entries can attest...), but it would make sense to me if she is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. Perhaps she always has been and it merely manifested more strongly now that Wash is... gone. Anyone can see that she needs time to rest and recover, but with the gorram Alliance following us and the scarcity of work and money, I highly doubt she's going to get it.
In fact, it seems to me that the entire crew is still in shock from Miranda. Perhaps it's morbid of me, but it's like part of our 'family', (I still can't quite get my head around that concept) took a piece of all of us when they died. A big piece, it feels like sometimes. Occasionally, I can see steps towards emotional repair being made, but I have little hope that any of us will recover soon.
...
Neither will the Alliance, though I have much less of a problem with that. The Miranda message is still continuing its work, as we clearly saw while doing the hospital on Beaumonde. What were once muttered complaints have become treasonous speeches and occasionally riots. The police force has been increased, and I cannot imagine that Beaumonde is the only planet where this is happening - there was even rumors of a small uprising on Boros that was crushed by the feds there. All this has made the crew happy, but I think that deep down, we are all wondering about the steep price of our rebellion.
- Simon
...
Jayne, if I ever catch you going through my possessions or reading this again, you are humped. Dong ma?
River Tam smiled, eyes flicking along the desired route as she dodged the other players running at her, arms of different colors and lengths reaching for the ball.
I can win this.
Props aside, this game really was a kind of dance. Limbs and reflexes needed to be precise, the teams had a common goal that joined them in an unusual unity, and the steady pounding of feet and rasping of breath over dry throats provided a rhythm she could move to with ease.
This was a dance.
And in dance, she was unparalleled.
Calculating a possible trajectory, the slight girl sprung into an aggressive movement and plowed through her brother and resident doctor, Simon. Kaylee Frye, proud mechanic of Serenity, blocked her path, but it was easy to slip through her grasp. Both tried and failed to snatch the ball, ending up tangled around each other - though neither seemed to particularly mind. It was a simple matter after that to spin the ball over Zoe Washbourne's head and into the Captain's outstretched arms. The second in command, who appeared to be lost in thought, took a long moment to notice. Blinking, she reached out several seconds too late to stop him dodging around her, pivoting and passing the ball to Jayne Cobb. Jayne's quick eyes darted around. Kaylee, who was now balanced on Simon's shoulders and waving her arms in front of the goal, stuck her tongue out at him. He grinned and roughly jerked his head at River, backing up several steps and lifting it over his head. Completing the movement, she placed her hands on the mercenary's broad shoulders and leaped. It took less than a second for her to compute the information available and flip over his head, bringing her leg around and shooting out her bare heel to pitch the ball directly through Kaylee's arms and the thick metal hoop.
"The match point is yours, I guess." Simon said over the gleeful shouts of Jayne and the Captain, ruefully shaking his head as Kaylee slipped off his shoulders and hugged him from behind, winking at River in a good-natured fashion. She grinned back and then turned a smirk on her brother.
"Victory is ours, you mean." He only smiled quietly in response. The gifted, slightly bratty sibling he once knew was peeking out at him from behind the veil that the Academy had placed over her features, and that made any defeat worthwhile - even one where Jayne was the winner. The big man was currently punching a fist in the air and whooping while Malcolm Reynolds, captain of the Firefly-class ship Serenity, looked on with wry amusement.
River glanced sideways at the woman standing apart from the rest. Zoe merely seemed indifferent to the outcome of the game, exuding the sea of weary grief that River now associated with her. Combined with Kaylee's buoyant aura on her other side and the general charged atmosphere of competition, the effect made her reel internally. It was a relief when the intercom crackled overhead and Inara's voice called the Captain and Zoe away from their game.
-- -- --
For all its usefulness, there were certain occasions when Inara Serra was not appreciative of her ability to read the nuances of the human face.
This was undoubtedly one of them. Badger's face was an amalgamation of unpleasant emotions and vices - greed in the slight twitch of his lip, lust as his dark eyes swept her neck and breasts, pride in the deliberate jut of his jaw, the constant underlying current of anger in the lines on his brow... and, of course, a streak of dishonesty a mile wide, evidenced by the constant shifting of his gaze and the stiffness of his movements.
"You are lying." She accused quietly, not sure why she was pressing the issue. Of course he was lying - he was little more than a petty thief, delighted to lord his perceived superiority over everyone else. People like that rarely spoke the truth.
Badger took the blow to his integrity with grace. The thickness of his accent in contrast to his formal words almost made her laugh.
"Well, not to cause offense, m'lady..." He began, tipping his hat. Inara resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead giving a soft, harmless smile and letting him continue.
"But I can't just be givin' away the details of my job to anyone who 'appens to answer a wave, see. Creates loose ends. Not conducive to smooth business - surely a fine, upstandin' woman such as yerself can understand that, bein' in the sort of business that you are."
Inara checked herself sharply as she felt the instinct to scowl. "I do not wish to cause offense either, but given the number of times you have caused damage - both financially and physically - to this crew has given me little reason to trust you, I'm afraid."
Badger smiled as well - a broad, seemingly open one that she was sure hid most of his intentions. "Forgive an' forget, the wise men say."
"I'm beginning to wonder if any of those exist anymore." Her fingers made a move to terminate the conversation, knowing this would drive him to reveal more.
"Wait!"
Ah ha. Badger began speaking rapidly. "The Cap'n 'asn't 'ad any jobs o' late, 'as 'e?"
Inara said nothing, and he pressed on. "'e won't find much. Lots o' 'onest smugglers got themselves killed a few months back, you know that - my condolences on the recent loss o' your pilot an' priest-man, by the way. Dreadful shame."
Obviously he was hoping to soften her further, but he have had more success trying to defeat River in a game of chess. Inara's composure slipped for a second, and the man was treated to a furious glare. He continued hurriedly. "There's no shortage o' jobs, just a lack o' coordinators an' men to carry 'em out. Us businessmen gotta stick together now, see? Wouldn't be conducive to cause any 'arm to the good Cap'n and 'is thugs."
She looked away, sighing inwardly. Much as she would have wished to never deal with this hundan ever again, Mal and the others needed the coin.
"Fine. Don't go anywhere." Before he could reply, she jabbed a few buttons and pulled the com down from its cradle. Breathing deeply, she attempted to calm herself before using it. She knew that her anger stemmed from more than the grimy man in front of her, but it would not do to let the others see.
"Mal, there's a long distance wave for you. Badger. He wants you and Zoe." As she spoke into the battered radio, Inara softened her tone so the distaste she felt for the small-time crime lord would not show. The video screen linking Serenity to the small den in Persephone had been muted, but the Companion still felt the need to keep up the pretense of politeness. Scornful as she was of the petty thief and his attempts at deceit, she did have to admit that lying was as natural to her as breathing, and had been for many years - so why not add more falsehoods to the ever-growing pile?
"He says he has a job for you." Releasing the broadcasting button, Inara sat up straight in the pilot's chair, idly gazing out into the pinpricks of light scattered across the sky - each one a pebble on the cosmic beach. Looking into the depths of space had always chilled her blood. Serenity was so small compared to it, each individual life upon the ship infinitesimal in the grand scheme of the universe.
And if they were nothing, why did death matter so greatly? It didn't, really. Not at all.
'My condolences', indeed. Stupid jumped-up hwoon dan. Her fingers drummed against the console.
Two grains of sand on that beach had been destroyed forever, and Badger didn't care. The Guild didn't care. Nobody cared. Nobody, that was, but the seven remaining people on this ship held together by spit, prayers and sheer force of will. When put into perspective, the deaths of Wash and Book were less than nothing.
Her heart, however, insisted otherwise.
-- -- --
"You're doing it incorrectly."
Jayne looked at River in annoyance. She was sitting cross-legged on a crate in the corner, watching him shoot the ball through the hoop and bobbing her head in time to the dull thuds as it hit the ground.
"If I wanted yer opinion, crazy-girl, I woulda asked for it." He bounced the ball again and threw it, grunting in satisfaction as it flew through without grazing the loop of metal. "See? Looks shiny to me."
The girl shook her head. "Fingers are bent at the wrong angle. Not achieving maximum thrust."
Jayne rolled his eyes, unconsciously flexing his digits. "Don't see how it matters, anyhow."
"Never presume what might or might not occur. It does matter. Your method is incorrect!" River insisted.
Simon, writing in his notebook on one of the upper balconies since Kaylee had gone to the engine room, glanced down at the familiar agitated tone in her voice. Surely the medication couldn't be wearing off that quickly?
"A'right, then. You do it." The ball sailed forcefully in her direction, and he crossed his arms as she caught it on the flat of her palm.
"Watch. Understand." Gracefully, River unfolded her legs and stood, jumping lightly down onto the cold metal of the hold floor. She cupped the ball for a second, feeling its weight and the way her hand curved around the surface. Then, with a pirouette, she dropped and pushed it again with splayed, slightly curved fingers when it came up to her waist, gaining momentum. The smooth, repetitive caused the ball to rapidly gain speed, until it was a whitish blur in front of her legs.
"Comprehend?" She looked expectantly at Jayne, not missing a single beat. The big man looked duly unimpressed.
"That ain't no difference, moon-brain. Yer just showin' off."
River made a face, exasperated at his apparent ignorance. With a slight alteration of her feet and hips, she sent the ball right back at him - the difference being that now it was flying far too fast to grab. It caught Jayne in the middle of the chest and sent him staggering back several steps, hitting the stairs hard. Ricocheting off the hard muscles of his chest, the ball soared back into River's arms. She gave a small smile.
"Could be the difference between victory and defeat." Jayne's glare as he disentangled himself from the railing did nothing to perturb her.
"Yer talkin' crazy again, girl. It's just a round... thing. Ain't gonna be no difference." He growled.
"Butterfly beating its wings starts a hurricane. Simple physics - every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Reactions become chains. Dominoes. Watch them topple and see what happens." She began to giggle as Jayne's eyebrows rose.
The pair now had Simon's full attention. Hurriedly descending the steps, he gently grasped River's arm. "Why don't we go... somewhere else, mei mei?"
Visibly irritated, the mercenary called out to him, rubbing his chest. That was going to bruise, gorram it.
"Ain't you got her meds right yet, doc? Don't no one else find it a mite disturbing that I have to do jobs with the gorram girl and she can go loco at any time?"
River cocked her head and regarded Jayne with mild curiosity, not seeming to register Simon's attempts to drag her out of the hold.
"The big bad wolf isn't scared, is he?" Another smirk began to creep across her face as she stared blankly at him. "Scared of the little girl lost in the woods."
Simon gritted his teeth and ignored Jayne's blustered retort as he guided his grinning sister up the stairs. He did indeed find it disturbing that she was paired with Jayne on heists, though for drastically different reasons. Despite the not uncommon bouts of psychosis, River had definitely improved since Miranda. Unfortunately, this had resulted on her being taken out on more and more missions, and each time had rendered him almost paralyzed with worry. The fact that Jayne was the person she had to rely on did not improve his mood during the long hours without a word from the party of four.
"River, I don't think that provok-"
His voice faltered as she unexpectedly reached up and touched his face, a more tender expression replacing her blank smile. "You're afraid, too."
"I-"
"Don't worry. Fear is good. Makes adrenaline. It will help us when the time comes." Her head tilted again as she listened to a silent voice, a wide spectrum emotions flitting across her face in rapid succession. "Coming soon."
-- -- --
Neither of the two 'businessmen' terminated the conversation in the best of spirits. Mal leaned against the control desk on the bridge, frowning slightly as Zoe voiced her concerns. His shirt clung to his skin, the sweat from the game cooling to form a clammy film over his body and generally causing a whole mess of discomfort.
"Frankly, sir, I don't feel that taking this job is in our best interests. The Alliance is still on our tail and being as bold as to steal directly from them won't help things much. The payoff simply isn't worth it, sir, not for the difficulty of it."
Mal turned and began adjusting the wave receiver as he replied. The sight of her tired face almost made him feel bad about overruling her. "Don't matter. All those repairs we made cut deep into our pockets. Gotta take the jobs as they come, you know that. Can't afford to turn anything down at the moment."
"Badger isn't trustworthy, sir. The last three jobs we took from him ended with us getting humped somehow. The salvage mission, Jianying, Whitefall... it's more than likely this is a set-up."
He shook his head, already altering their course to head for Persephone. "The man's in the same boat as us, Zoe. What with the Operative destroying all our shelters, and all. Lots of those men pulled heists for Badger. We're some of the few left that'll consider working for him."
Zoe sighed in a resigned way, but he still didn't turn around. The new weary lines in her brow were enough to trigger the crouching grief waiting to spring up and tackle him again. Mal knew himself, and part of what he knew was that he was not one for comforting people. Let Inara or Kaylee take over that job. It was a selfish thought, but he already had enough on his plate, and he had no desire to reopen the wounds that were slowly beginning to close up.
"Now go get ready. We'll arrive the day after tomorrow. I don't like it much either, so let's keep this short and sweet."
"Sir-"
"Go." He said, silently hating himself. A beat of angry silence battered at his shoulders from behind.
"I'll dig out the mule." Zoe said tersely, and left the bridge with a tight stride.
Inara, who had silently watched the exchange from the doorway, now spoke up. "I think she's right, Mal. Badger was holding something back. Even if you're strapped for cash, this may not be worth it."
Oh, just shiny. The captain spun around in his chair to face her, his already dark mood quickly deteriorating. "We don't really have a choice, Inara."
She moved closer, determined. "You do. I've told you before, I have clients-"
"Tsai boo shr! I ain't gonna have you jeopardize your career on account of somethin' that's posin' no threat!"
The Companion laughed, the uncommon sound bouncing around the bridge. "Mal, please. The Alliance knows full well that I was with Serenity on Miranda and then stayed with her afterwards. My career isn't just teetering on the rocks - it fell and smashed ever since the Operative got wind of us. It's a minor miracle the Guild still allows me a license."
"And now you want to risk what little there is left of your reputation?" Mal shook his head firmly. "No. No way in hell. This job will go nice and smooth, just wait."
"You always say that before something goes horribly wrong."
Without another word, she left him to sigh and slump backwards in thought, gazing out into the Black.
So... yay? Nay?
Reviews (positive or negative) are my food and water. You wouldn't starve me, would you?
...
Okay, bad metaphor - but you get the idea. Thanks for reading!
...oh, and a quick side note - I'm still looking for a beta reader for this story, so if anyone's interested, please don't hesitate to contact me!