Glass of Water
Mal was not a light sleeper. Leadin' the life he did, he'd learned to shut out the rumble of the engine and other smallish sounds captains of spaceships were required to sleep through. So it was a mite shocking when the slap of bare feet on metal woke him one night.
He lay there, frowning at the ceiling, telling himself to ignore it and go back to sleep. But he found that he wasn't tired anymore.
Muttering, he pushed himself off his bunk, careful not to make much noise so's not to wake the rest of the crew.
Mal headed for the galley as quietly as he could, his mind centered on a cool glass of water, but the sight that awaited him in that room made him stop short.
At first he thought she was practicing a fight, but the more he watched her, he realized that River Tam was dancing. The moonbrained little girl was dancing in his galley. He opened his mouth to say something, but the longer he watched her, the stronger his appreciation for the dance became. Each twirl, each dip, every movement of her arm or bend of her knee – it all flowed together to create a picture, a story. The longer he watched, the more he realized that if he said a word, the glass protecting the picture would shatter – the binding of the book would fall apart.
So he watched, wondering if she knew he was there or if he would just have to forgo that glass of water. The movement slowed after a while, before coming to a complete stop, and it seemed to Mal as if the last notes of some unheard melody hovered between the two of them as River's eyes fluttered shut, then opened once more and came to rest on him.
"Hello, Captain," she whispered, a soft smile gracing her lips. "You're up rather late. Did I wake you?"
Mal frowned, unused to hearing such plain talk coming from the mouth of one of the most mysterious people ever to join his crew.
"No, you didn't-" Mal stopped as River raised a single eyebrow at him. Right. Mind reader.
She moved to the cupboard and handed him a cup without making the slightest sound.
"What were you dancing to?"
River blinked, perhaps a little shocked at the question, but answered after some thought. "Music. In my head. The music keeps the voices away, but demands to be put to use. I fly every night."
Mal assumed that dancing must feel like flying to her. "Doc said you used to dance on Osiris."
The girl nodded. "Didn't want to at first. Simon's very persuasive. Part of what makes him such a good doctor, I suppose."
The two sat down at the table in the middle of the room. "You're kinda less cryptic than you usually are, kid," Mal observed, sipping from his glass of water.
River looked away, biting her lower lip. "It's easier to make sense after Miranda… there aren't as many voices telling me to do this or to tell them that – the music fades and there's nothing. Nothing is enough to drive me crazy." Her eyes flicked back to his face, and she laughed. "And it's the same music over and over. I change the dance whenever I can, and it helps to keep me sane a while longer… be wary of me, Captain. My big secret may be out in the open, but that doesn't lessen the effects of- of what they did to me."
She stood gracefully and walked away without another word.
The next morning she was back to normal, spewing gibberish that didn't make much sense to anybody, and Mal would've thought the whole thing was a dream – except for the half full glass of water still standing on the table.
A/N: I didn't realize how hard it was to write River in-character, so I'm not too happy with her in this fic. But I love Mal, so I had to put it up.