Firefly and Serenity are copyrighted materials of Mutant Enemy, Universal Pictures and Twentieth-Century Fox. This is a fan story intended for entertainment purposes only. No compensation has been received or will be accepted in connection with this work, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended or should be implied.
Mice Don't Dance
Prompt: Dance
Inara found her in the cargo bay, huddled underneath one of the sets of stairs, her arms wrapped around her knees, entire body shaking. "River? Is everything all right?"
River raised her head, revealing clear, focused eyes. The action seemed to stop her shaking. "I want it to be."
"But it isn't."
She sighed, a slight release of her breath. "No. The...they reminded me of..." She started shaking again. "When the cat's away, the mice can play. But some of the mice are rats and the rats are so much stronger and larger than the mice, so they --"
"River."
She stopped and looked at Inara again. "The mice keep running around terrified, because they can't find their cage."
Inara thought about that for a minute. "Are you saying you can't stop thinking about the memories?"
River nodded.
She thought about that for a minute, considering. Then, angling her head, Inara asked, "Do the mice ever dance?"
That earned her an are you kidding? look. "Mice don't dance."
"You do. Will you show me?"
"How to dance?" But the shaking had stopped, and her arms and legs had relaxed slightly. "You know how to dance. I've seen you. With the Captain."
Inara shook her head. "Socially, yes. But I never learned ballet. I can recognize some of the dances, but I don't know how to do them."
River uncurled herself completely. "You know some of them?"
"What they look like, yes."
She stood up and moved out into the cargo bay, assuming second position and beginning a series of steps. Inara laughed delightedly and called out the name. Returning the laugh, River smoothly segued into another one. "What's this one?"
Five increasingly-complicated dances later, Inara finally shook her head and admitted defeat. "Okay, you've finally found one I can't name."
River stopped, coming down squarely on her heels. "That's the Dying Swan."
"How are you feeling?"
Raising an eyebrow at the apparent non sequitur, River considered for a second. Then, a look of astonishment crossed her face. "The mice went into their cages!"
"Good!"
She walked closer. "You knew."
"Knew what?"
"The mice would run away if I danced. You knew." She paused. "Distress tolerance. Distraction. You were thinking about coping skills."
Inara chuckled ruefully. "It worked, didn't it?"
River nodded and scampered off. "I have to go check the nav settings."
"River?" Inara called after her.
The girl paused.
"Why don't you try that the next time the mice get out of their cage?"
She half turned, offering a soft smile, and nodded before continuing toward the bridge.
"That was really well done," came a voice from another direction. Inara turned to see Simon leaning against the doorway from the passenger dorm, a capped hypogun in his hand. "How did you know about distress tolerance? Are you trained?"
"Actually, yes," said Inara, crossing behind him into the dorm and settling herself on the couch. "It's about more than physical care, you know. Psychological technique can be -- useful."
Sitting down next to her, he nodded. "I hadn't thought of it that way."
"Many Companions have advanced degrees in counseling psychology or a similar field." She paused. "I'm one of them."
"Why didn't you say anything before?"
She leaned back, settling herself more firmly. "River's problems weren't just psychological."
"They aren't now, either."
"But it's more under control. That makes a difference. I'm also not a licensed counselor."
Simon considered. "But she trusts you."
"Yes." Then her gaze sharpened. "Simon, you're not asking me to counsel her, are you? That'd be both unethical and inappropriate!"
"No, no, I wouldn't ask that." He looked embarrassed. "I just...if you think something can help, will you let one of us know?" He picked up the hypo from where he had laid it on a table. "Doping her all the time can't do any good."
She looked at him, startled. She'd privately thought so herself, but wouldn't have guessed he agreed.
"It's all I know how to do," he explained. "I can't just do nothing. I've felt so helpless ever since Miranda."
She laid a hand on his arm. "Loving your sister isn't nothing. She needs that."
"Yeah." His lips twitched. "I guess she does."
"I know it."
"So you'll help if can?"
"I'd be honored," said Inara sincerely. "If nothing else, because she's such a beautiful dancer."
This time he smiled. "Yes," he said. "She is."
