Carving Out a Future

By: Dreamfall

Summary: Her crew doesn't know that Serenity's new passenger, a carpenter with an 'unusual upbringing', is a relic from the past. Xander says he's not looking for trouble. But, then, neither are they. Not usually, leastways. It just always comes calling anyway. Gen. Canon couples mentioned, but definitely not the focus of the story.

Written for: NaNoWriMo and TTH100: Xander/Firefly

TTH100 prompt: 041-Doctor

Rating: FR13/PG13/T

Disclaimer: I own neither Firefly nor BtVS.

Spoilers: Takes place post Season 7 for Buffy, and post-Objects in Space (and post the comic books, for that matter), but pre-Serenity for Firefly.

Author's Note: This is the story I started in November for NaNoWriMo. I'm thirty or so chapters into it, but since there's going to be at least one hundred chapters (since it's for tth100), they're mostly pretty short. If you're coming from this from my HP fanfics-- it's very different. Way less dark. It's also an incredibly fun story to write, and I do intend to continue with it to its conclusion. And no, it's not taking any real time away from Cat, now that I'm not working obsessively on it, like I was in November. I'll be posting every couple/few days at least till I'm caught up with my livejournal (username dreamfall(underscore)nnwm). Hope you enjoy!

Review Response: Responses to any reviews will be posted in the same livejournal as my other review responses-- username dreamfall(underscore)ff.

Chapter Four
Strange Scars

They moved through the halls to the infirmary, Zoë and Wash joining them as they passed the crew quarters. Zoë looked perfectly groomed and alert, as per usual, but Wash's hair was a mess, his bright yellow-and-blue shirt was buttoned crookedly, and he was looking blearily at them. "What's goin' on?"

"Kaylee got herself into a situation," Mal replied tersely. "Guy helped her out an' got shot for 'is trouble so she brought him back here to get fixed up. Simon, you keep your sister away from him, dong ma?"

"Yes, of course," Simon said absently, opening the infirmary door and waving Jayne through. "Set him down, please."

Jayne obeyed and then backed off, turning to listen as Kaylee started telling her story again, with more details this time. His expression darkened as she got to the point about shouting for help. "Yeah! An' how come you was shoutin' first fer Mal an' Zoë when a'course I'm the one'd do you the best good?"

"Hey--" Mal started.

Kaylee shot an apologetic smile at Jayne, eyes never completely leaving the proceedings inside. "Figured if any of ya heard me shouting, it wouldn't much matter what I was screaming-- you'd come save me. Didn't go meanin' to hurt your--"

She cut herself off, eyes widening, as Simon finished slicing the seams of his patient's shirt and carefully peeled it off of his chest. The others all turned to see what had caught her attention, and there was a moment of total silence among them, though Simon continued with his work -- he didn't spare a glance for anything but the wound he was currently working on.

It wasn't the quantity of scars that was shocking to the others. The border was a dangerous place, and everyone knew a couple folks with more scars than whole skin. But these scars were ... strange. Only one on his left shoulder looked like a bullet's entry wound, which were what they'd seen the most of over the years, and there was a meager handful that were almost certainly knife wounds, but those were in the minority. More could have been from a knife, but if so they had to be some pretty strange knives. There were several sets of parallel marks that looked almost like they were left by some sort of claws of various sizes, a couple that looked like bites from animals of some sort that Mal hoped he'd never run into, a couple splattered sections that suggested acid burns, and one double puncture at the point where shoulder met neck.

"Think he was running with a barbecue fork?" Wash asked after a minute, offering a joke to break the tension.

Mal snickered. "Lucky he didn't poke his eye out." Jayne laughed, but the others just looked at him funny. "What? Nobody else's mother ever said that? 'Don't run with that'," he added in a nasal tone.

"'You'll poke your eye out'," Jayne chimed in for the rest.

Amusing though your antics undoubtedly are," Simon interrupted, "Would you all be so kind as to bizui! I'm trying to save a life here! Mal, I need your assistance here, please. Hold him steady. I need to get this bullet out before he loses too much blood. Might need a transfusion. Kaylee, remember how I showed you to type blood? Check it out, please, we'll see if any of us can give it."

Mal moved forward efficiently, for once not complaining about being on the receiving end of orders on his ship. In a medical emergency, Simon outranked him. Unless, of course, there was other trouble going down as well.

Kaylee edged forward nervously, found a swab in the second drawer she checked, dabbed it in the blood, and then squeezed a drop onto a small plastic device. "B," she finally offered.

"Good enough. Zoë, Jayne, you're both his type -- I might require a donation from either or both of you. Grab a bite to eat if you haven't in the last couple hours, and keep yourselves available."

Zoë nodded sharply, and headed for the kitchen, Wash trailing along behind. Jayne scowled. "Do I gotta?"

"You brought him," Mal stated unsympathetically. "You bleed for him."

Reluctantly, Jayne slumped into a chair out of the way, glowering. Simon and Mal ignored him, continuing their work, and Kaylee perched on the counter, watching the procedure nervously.