Bandiagara, Part 3b

Keeping Books

A/N: Folks at the other site I post at gave me a hard time about this, so let me just make this clear: Mal is asleep. He fell asleep in the last chapter, and he's still asleep. Despite the first line reading, "Mal woke…" He wakes up in his dream. We all on board with that? Good. :-) Now back to the story…

Mal woke to find the Shepherd sitting in the chair in his bunk, in front of his desk. It was a shock. He'd left the ship's books out on the desk, wide open. He never left the books out in the open, particularly Volume Two, as he thought of it. Shepherd Book coulda seen—oh 地狱 dìyù, what was he worried about? Weren't nothin' in there the Shepherd didn't already know. "Shepherd," he said by way of greeting. "Funny how you seem to turn up whenever I'm too tired to get up. You'd get to thinkin' I didn't do nothin' but laze around in bed 'round here."

Shepherd Book, as was his wont on these occasions, merely nodded a greeting, with that half-smile of his, and said nothing.

Mal propped himself up on his elbows, knowing it wouldn't do no good to tell the Shepherd to get gone from his bunk so he could get outta bed and get dressed. When the Shepherd came, he wanted to talk, or at least he wanted to make Mal talk, so Mal waited until the Shepherd said what was on his mind. Sure enough, the Shepherd soon started grilling him.

"Are you prepared?"

"Prepared for what?" Mal asked.

"To take the place of Wash," Book replied succinctly.

"Ain't tryin' to take the place of Wash," Mal answered. "Ain't tryin' to be Serenity's pilot, nor Zoe's husband. Only thinkin' that when her child is born, Zoe's gonna need some help, and yeah, I figure I'll sorta stand-in as a father to the kid."

"Are you prepared?" the Shepherd repeated.

"Hell no, Preacher, I ain't prepared," Mal replied. "I reckon it's gonna happen whether I'm prepared or not, so I might as well get used to it."

"Don't you think Zoe's strong enough to stand on her own?" Book inquired.

"'Course she's strong enough," Mal answered. "That ain't up for debate. But she needs to know she ain't alone in this. Wash may be dead, but she's got a family, and her whole family's gonna help her raise this child."

"Speaking of children, what about Simon and Kaylee?" Book asked.

"They ain't children. What about 'em?" Mal returned.

"You're trying to do right by them," Book observed.

"I screwed 'em up this time. Weren't intentional. Figure it's up to me to fix it."

"So you approve? Of their relationship."

"No!" Mal replied instantly on his gut instinct. No one was good enough for his 妹妹 mèimei. Then, upon reflection, he amended, "Well, yeah, actually. Simon's shaping well."

"You mean you've succeeded in corrupting him."

Now it was Mal's turn to play the silent card. He waited.

Book expounded. "Turning him to the wickedness of your ways."

"Guess I have," Mal said with a bit of a proud grin. "Reckon I figure it's better for him to follow our wicked ways out here than for him to follow the wicked ways of the Alliance. He's changed, Book. He ain't Core no more."

"You've made him a misfit."

"Don't figure I have. He always had it in him. That's why he broke his sister out of that academy. I didn't have nothin' to do with him makin' that decision."

"Ah…yes," Book said. "His sister."

"Yeah."

"She's coming along."

"She's doin' better," Mal said. "Steadier."

"You once said she wasn't completely right."

"I did. But she ain't all wrong neither. Way I figure, she was talkin' sense most of the time. I just didn't know how to listen."

"Still got the danger lurking in her," Book said ominously.

"I suppose she does," Mal agreed. "But don't we all? Don't we all, Book?" he insisted, when Book didn't reply.

Book still wouldn't answer. Mal had a sense he had touched on the territory the Shepherd never wanted to talk about.

Mal continued to press. "Doesn't the darkness lurk in us all, Book? She may have killed dozens of Reavers—"

"And some people in the Maidenhead Bar—" Book interjected.

"Way I see it, she ain't no worse than what I am," Mal asserted. "Better than, maybe. I got the blood of thousands on my hands—men, women—"

Book interrupted him. "You can't take responsibility for every death under your command in the war."

Mal wasn't about to be talked down. "Yes, I can. And should. Not just the ones I shot, not just the enemy. Everyone I ordered to stand when they coulda run, everyone I ordered to attack when they shoulda took shelter. That girl River ain't no more of a killer than what I am myself. Less so, maybe, since she was made to be that way by some remorseless 不道德 混帐 bùdàodé húnzhàng cutting into her brain."

"And you weren't made to kill? Forced by circumstances?"

"I volunteered to fight, Shepherd. Ain't no one forced me."

"And you killed others easily, gleefully, with pleasure?"

"Hell no, preacher. Every death sits on my conscience. Some more so than others." He fell silent, thinking of some of the deaths that sat heavier on his conscience.

Book interrupted his journey down that dark path. "Your new man."

"You mean Dr Ip? He ain't my man."

"He's making himself your man."

"Can't see why he'd want to do a thing like that."

"Can't you?" Book pressed.

Mal considered. "He wants information outta me. Favorite activity is 'Grill the Captain.' The question is why."

"Curiosity?" Book suggested.

"Sure," Mal readily agreed. "But on whose behalf?"

"Whose indeed?" There was a beat of silence. "I questioned you often enough," Book offered.

"Yeah, you did." Mal gave Book a penetrating stare. Book was another one whose favorite activity was 'Grill the Captain.' "Without offering up a lotta confidences in return, I might add."

Book was silent. He didn't look like he was about to begin offering up any of those confidences now.

"Maybe I just keep him on 'cause I miss your needling, Shepherd. Need someone to keep me sharp."

The Shepherd quirked a smile and turned the subject. "Looking out for Jayne, I see."

"Jayne can take care of himself."

"Yet you rode to the rescue when he found himself entangled with Janice."

"Hell, Shepherd, he didn't tell me he was havin' domestic troubles. From the sound of his comm, it was mayhem, women and children screamin', crashes, explosions, and a Reaver attack thrown in as a bonus."

"Jayne got out of that scrape."

"He did." Mal did his best to look stern, but the Shepherd wasn't fooled.

"You wouldn't mind seeing him entangled."

"No, yeah. It would be funny." Mal knew his sense of humor contained a cruel streak, and part of him was disappointed that Jayne had extricated himself from his predicament so easily. He would have liked to watch him squirm a bit longer.

"Just as funny if it happened to you?" the Shepherd shot back.

"Ha, ha," Mal replied without humor. "But it won't."

"You're so sure? Cock sure?"

This time Mal couldn't contain his snort of laughter. Everybody seemed to be askin' him that question. "I am. I ain't a man of loose morals, Shepherd." Book raised his eyebrows and mouthed the word 'thieving.' "Well, okay, I am," Mal conceded, "but not that way. No matter what you may think—with your special hell and all. I may be susceptible," Mal allowed. He was just a human being, after all. "But I ain't loose. Besides, I've taken precautions."

"Because you don't want to father any children on Inara."

Leave it to the Shepherd to hit him where he was most vulnerable. "Yeah, Shepherd, I do," he confessed in a low voice. "I want as many children as she's willin' to bear me. If she's ready to be a mother, I'm ready to be a father."

"And you've told her this?"

"I spilled it on her unawares," Mal blurted. "I could see her face. She don't want children. Leastaways, she don't want 'em with me." This confession hurt more than he expected, and he tried to take refuge in sarcasm. "Ain't a 'suitable candidate,' I s'pose."

"But when she asked you, point blank, if you were serious about wanting children, you wouldn't give her a direct answer," the Shepherd pointed out. "You were flippant, you were evasive, you tried diverting her attention, you counter-attacked."

"I'm…afraid," Mal admitted, at last.

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid if I tell her I want children, I'll scare her off."

"You think she's afraid?" Book queried.

"You heard her. Well, I guess you didn't. I heard her. Heard her say she figured she'd die before she retired from Companioning and had children. That ain't very hopeful now, is it?" Mal drew in a breath and looked the Shepherd in the eye. "Shepherd, I could put up with a lot of misfortunes, but losing her again—I might not die, but I reckon it would kill me just the same. Just live a long slow death without her."

Book maintained that Shepherd-y calm of his, almost seeming indifferent as Mal contemplated the idea of long, slow living death. In the circumstances, it was maddening. So was the reasoned logic of Book's next question. "Why not marry her?"

"Nothin' would please me better," Mal replied, repeating his earlier statement.

"But when she asked you about that, you also said you weren't serious."

"Didn't say that!" Mal exclaimed. That was not true. Is that how it had sounded? "Said I couldn't give any other answer."

"Why not tell her what you want?" Again, there was the Shepherd with his damn logic.

"Don't want to scare her off," Mal reiterated.

"You know she would be scared off? Maybe it's what she wants, too."

"She don't tell me her feelings about marriage. About anything." She hadn't told him she loved him. Had she even said she liked him? "She don't talk about her real feelings."

"Like you do?"

The Shepherd's barb was sharp, and Mal nursed his wounds in silence.

"Maybe what your relationship needs is more openness. More trust." Book's voice was kind, but firm.

"I been open," Mal protested. "I gave her everything, right from the beginning—offered myself and all my worldly goods to her acceptance, before we so much as kissed."

"You mean you proposed—" Book began.

"Yes."

"—without mentioning the word 'marriage'," he finished pointedly.

Mal looked away. "Didn't want to scare her off," he repeated.

"Hmm."

"In my own mind, I been married to her since that day. I would never betray her."

"You're a faithful man."

"Yes," Mal said, fiercely.

"Why not tell her so?"

"Would scare her off."

"You should declare your faith in public, before witnesses, with her consent."

"You're talkin' like a preacher."

"I am a preacher," Book stated.

Mal was silent.

"She loves you. You know that."

"Loves me enough to sleep with me," Mal replied. "Mayhaps not enough to marry me."

Book looked disturbed at thought of people sleeping together not married.

"Don't need your shock, Shepherd, we're grown adults, not teenagers. I'm thirty-five years old, and she's…"

Book prompted, "And she's—?"

"No idea, actually. Younger 'n me, I suppose. But a woman grown. Old enough to make her own decisions."

"And if her decision were to marry you?"

"I'd do it tomorrow."

"And if it were not?"

"Then I'd take as close to marriage as I can get, for as long as I can get it. 'Til death do part us, if she'll allow it."

"You should ask her."

. . .

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glossary

地狱 dìyù [hell]

妹妹 mèimei [little sister]

不道德 混帐 bùdàodé húnzhàng [immoral bastards]

Tell me what you think! Is Mal crazy, to be carrying on lengthy conversations in his head with Shepherd Book?