Authors Note: The characters contained in this story are not mine; I'm only borrowing them for my own amusement and am making no profit whatsoever. This is just a one shot I came up with after re-watching some old Firefly episodes. One cautionary note, if you are not at all familiar with the show Castle, this story will probably not make sense. As always, reviews are as always cherished to the nth degree. Share and Enjoy!
Mal sighed as he settled into the pilot's seat. A brief smile crossed his face as he remembered Walsh's expression when Mal had suggested the couple take a few days 'vacation'. Times had been rough of late, and Mal knew they all needed some R&R. Despite the pilot's skepticism, Mal did know how to fly and could handle the boat for a while. In fact, Mal knew a great deal more than any of his crew gave him credit for, not that he'd accept the credit even if it were given.
With a deft thump of his fist a hidden compartment opened under the control panel to his left. From it he pulled one of the many bottles of fine Scotch secreted throughout Serenity. When Mal was younger, the idea of drinking 100 year old whiskey had boggled his mind. Now the amber liquid staring back at him was nearly 400 years old. He had to admit though the investment in a cryogenic facility full of the spirit had been more than worth it. The slop they served now a day just couldn't hold a candle to the nectar of the long gone highlands.
He'd been reminded of her today. It'd been ages since he'd thought about that time of his life - of her. He'd moved on, and for the first time in a long time he'd been happy. Serenity hadn't been the first family he'd cultivated, but it was the first that had felt real in a very long time. He'd even begun to notice those pesky romantic thoughts start to crop up at the edges of this mind. Kaylee had been pestering him, pushing him to act on those feelings. But they weren't real, weren't strong enough to make him take that leap. More accurately, he wouldn't let them get that strong.
That was neither here nor there, though, as Mal took the first smooth sip of whiskey. The burn reminded him of grander times. Mal had done and seen so many things in his deceptively long life, been so many people. He'd tasted success and money - enjoyed plenty of it until the alliance had seized it. Now he lived on the edge. That smile crept back on his lips. He still had a few assets here and there, stashed around the 'verse, like the whiskey bottle in front of him. They were probably worth a modest fortune put together, but they held too much sentimental value to sell. Mal could almost hear the Jayne's derisive snort, if that fact were to come to light.
Mal shook his head, now remembering what had prompted the contemplative mood. Kaylee had been going on about needing another book to read at dinner. Unsurprisingly, she loved to bury herself in the romance and adventure of novels. When Jayne had sincerely said he knew of a book Kaylee might like, it had startled Mal. The image of Jayne's reading at all was hard for Mal to swallow, even with his massive imagination. It had taken all of Mal's self-control not to choke when Jayne had gone on to mention the title - Heat Wave.
It felt like a lifetime since he'd written that. Well of course it had been a lifetime, hadn't it? Several lifetimes actually. He idly wondered what his crew would say if they knew that he was the author. Not that they'd ever find out.
A few finger taps and eight people were smiling out at him from the visi-screen. He traced his finger over each face, pausing when he noticed how gaunt he'd become over the centuries, times had certainly changed. He looked up, out into the stars. 'Oh Kate, I wish you could see this.' He muttered raising his glass. After a moment, he thought better of it, 'On second thought, it's probably better that you didn't, you'd likely arrest me.'