Chapter 10
"All right then," said Inara, looking happier now that their lessons were back on track. "Now we can get started. With no interruptions," she added, giving Mal a look that dared him to contradict her.
"Yay," he said obligingly. Even Simon cracked a smile at that.
"So, Simon," Inara continued, "Why don't you give Mal a rough outline of what we're doing?"
Simon opened his mouth and then hesitated, gauging Mal's mood carefully. Mal gave him his I'm-on-my-very-best-behavior smile. River started humming again.
"Okay, so Inara thought-"
"Simon."
"Okay, so we thought that maybe we could use the next week to teach you how to behave in a higher social scene liketeachingyouhowtosaypleaseandthankyouandstuffli kethat."
He shut up rapidly and started examining the table. Inara let out a small sigh. Mal tried to pick apart what Simon said. When that failed, he tried to uncross his eyes.
"Do you want to try that again?" he asked Simon. "I don't know about Tross, but I kinda got lost around the time your mouth detached from your brain more than usual."
Simon shot a pleading look at Inara, who stared back unsympathetically.
"You're going to have to teach him this as well," she said. "And then take him clothes shopping."
Simon went whiter. Mal felt his stomach sink.
"Didn't you teach half the crew how to impersonate doctors already?" Inara asked.
"I remember that," sad Mal cheerfully. "Jayne wrote notes down on his arms." Actually, now that he thought of it…
"No cheating," River interjected from beside him, glancing up briefly from her paper, where she was sketching something he couldn't see.
"Yes, but I was paying them, so they wouldn't kill me when I told them they were doing it wrong!" interjected Simon, looking slightly hysterical. "How am I supposed to teach Mal anything when he's been waiting to shoot me from day one?"
Simon did, Mal considered, have a good point. But he wasn't that cruel. Yet. Maybe. Well…he'd play it by ear.
"Mal is not going to shoot you," Inara said in exasperation. Then she gave Mal a sideways glance. "You aren't, are you?"
"Why does everybody think I'll shoot the doc, but not that I'm the best captain ever?" Mal demanded. Honestly, these people. They really needed to get it together.
"Because you will shoot the doc," said Inara. "You have been threatening to shoot the doc since just about ever.
"And also, lesson number one: do not refer to a doctor as 'the doc'. It is Doctor."
"Fine," said Mal. "I promise not to shoot the doctor if you admit I am the best captain ever."
Inara eyed him. "If you cooperate," she said grudgingly.
Simon had no such qualms. "Yes, you are the absolute best captain ever now please don't shoot me."
Mal smiled. Today might just be a good day after all.
XXXXXXXXX
"All right," said Inara. "Now will you please explain to Mal what the next week will entail?"
Simon turned to Mal, looking more heartened now that he had extracted a promise of non-shooting.
"Basically, we're going to attempt to fit an entire lifetime of proper behavior lessons into seven days. So for today we'll cover the basics, and then the day after that we'll go more in-depth, and the day after that even more so, and so on and so on. Mostly we'll be focusing on manners-"
"Because those are not your strong suit," put in Inara.
"But we'll cover other things as well. Like politics and events and people you'll need to know."
"Make sense so far?" Inara asked.
"I do so have manners!" Mal exclaimed. "When I shoot people, I shoot them politely."
Inara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Simon looked unsure whether to laugh or not. River didn't even look up from her frantic scribbling.
"Mal," Inara said tightly, opening her eyes. "I can assure you that shooting people is frowned upon in high society."
"Even politely?" Mal felt honor-bound to put in.
"Even politely," Inara gritted out between clenched teeth. She took another breath and her face smoothed back into a serene expression. It was, Mal decided, incredibly creepy that she could do that. He was pretty sure that anyone in their right mind would agree.
"Also in these lessons we'll cover such concepts as knocking, saying please and thank you, and not resorting to punching people in the face when they something you don't agree with. All of these things, as I think everyone on this crew agrees, are areas you are sorely lacking in."
"I can so knock," Mal said indignantly. "And I don't always punch people in the face when I don't agree with them."
"No, sometimes you shoot them," Simon put in brightly. He deflated somewhat under the death glare Inara gave him, but Mal hurried to nod his rapid agreement.
"For the last time," Inara said. "You don't shoot people."
Mal decided to just give that point up. He was never going to win—he could argue the point until he was blue in the face and Inara wouldn't give an inch.
"I also use the words please and thank you," he added. Even River glanced up from her drawing to give him a disbelieving look.
"Nooo, you don't," said Simon.
"I liked you better when you were quiet," said Mal peevishly. Simon shrugged. Inara took another deep breath. River went back to her paper.
"All right then," said Inara firmly. "Let's get started."
Mal frowned. "I thought we were started."
"No, that was you being an interruption," said Inara. "Now we are going to get started. River-"
For the first time she seemed to realize that River was not paying any attention whatsoever and was focusing on her drawing.
"River, sweetie, did you hear what I said?" Inara asked gently, leaning towards River.
Favoritism, Mal decided. That's what this was: favoritism. Maybe if he rubbed soup in his hair Inara would stop telling him off for not knocking.
However, all thought would probably get him was lecture on why that 'wasn't appropriate for high society'. As the unicorns and killer bunny rabbits would agree. Wait-
okay, he really needed to get his mind under control.
Next to him River looked up, pausing in her drawing, and looked blankly at Inara.
"Segments," she said. "Insects, six legs. Three parts. Abdomen, thorax, head. Spiders, arachnids. Eight legs. Seven comes between six and eight. Holy number. Seven days a week. Week divided into segments. Pieces. Insects are segmented as well. Abdomen, thorax, head, repeat. Left over piece of pie but it does not matter as on the seventh day god rested. Let there be light."
She blinked a few times and looked at Simon.
"Do you like my bunny?"
She held up her paper. On it she had sketched a bunny which, on closer inspection, had fangs. Mal grinned.
Without waiting for her brother's comment she put the paper under her chair and placed the pencil back neatly on the table, turning to look at Inara.
"Arachnophobia is the fear of spiders," she said. Inara didn't miss a beat.
"Okay," she said. "Mal, read this." She handed him a portable cortex. When he powered it on a list of words appeared on the screen.
-Please
-Thank you
-You're welcome
-How are you?
-Hello
-Goodbye
-Excuse me
-May I…?
Mal had a very, very bad feeling about this.
"Um, what's this?" he asked. Inara smiled at him.
"This is your homework Mal," she said sweetly. "You are going to go around the ship and use one of these words in a conversation with another person. You must use a different word for each person. You must talk to everyone. When you're done you can drop the cortex off at my shuttle. And you'll knock."
"What about River?" Mal demanded. "If I have to suffer, she sure as hell does as well."
Inara glared at him, then turned to River.
"River, sweetie, you can do this if you want, but we know you don't need it." Mal frowned at Inara, who had her back turned, then looked at River and crossed his eyes.
"Teacher's pet," he mouthed. River giggled.
"I'll watch newspaper-man and make sure he is not eaten by spiders or apes," she said cheerfully.
Mal got to his feet and glanced at his cortex, then back up at Inara.
"Goodbye," he said firmly, and then turned and left the room, River skipping along behind him.
A/N: Okay, first and foremost, thank you to everyone who gave their opinions on to what, exactly, Mal is.
Surprisingly enough, just about everyone voted for newspaper.
Right then, results::::::/drumroll.
defying_augury, schur655, oldmoviewatcher, Jason Connor, and a random guest all voted for newspaper.
Reasons why—
defying_augury said because:one of those tricky ones where to finish reading an article you have to turn to D6 but the pages keep curling and crinkling and all you really wanted to do was read the comics section, but no. The headline had to be all mysterious and though provoking and now your stuck trying to wrestle the damn pages that refuse to fold the proper direction to find D6 which has conviency's up and vanished.
Shur655 said because:Mal is a newspaper for sure. How do I know this, he should be dead. Newspapers should be dead, Radio, TV, the internet and the great Recession haven't killed em yet. Mal breaks things, people on occasion himself. A newspaper can break things, very large and expensive metal things can be turned into many tons of paperweight by a single newspaper. A newspaper or its cousin the magazine can chop off your extremities (or almost), pretty sure Mal can do that too.
Also, a guest said: I vote newspaper because their hard to read sometimes. Lots of opinions and guess work.
defying_augury also gave me a wonderful ant definition, because no one else did: He's like an ant in that he's not so good on his own. On his own he's a very tiny ant in a very big world, but with other ants, his friends and family, they can get things done that none of them could do on their own. Serenity is the queen who get's testy when her workers ignore her for too long.
Yay, thanks for all the wonderful definitions! I actually had no idea what he was….I just wrote it because I was slightly insane at the time….well, that's a lie. Slightly Insane is a state of mind for me. I was a lot more that slightly insane when I wrote that.
And Jason Connor said for a random object how about River with an eyepatch?
The immediate question is why is River wearing an eyepatch? Perhaps she's protesting something…like a chocolate deficiency. Or Simon sticking her full of needles. Or the fact Kaylee stole her apple.
Of course, Jayne would not even consider that as he would see her with that eyepatch and think she caused herself grievous injury with the use of forbidden sharp and shiny objects and run away screaming and lock himself in his bunk. Which, when you think about it, is not really that great of an over-reaction.
I mean, if River was skipping around the ship with an eyepatch and presumably running into things to make a point and terrifying Jayne and Simon and probably everyone else, would you not think she hurt herself? Because let's be honest, River wouldn't get hurt unless she wanted to—with the exception, of course, of a few times.
But you'd have to wonder. And your thoughts would wander to dangerously sharp implements in the hands of our favorite telepathic space assassin. Much as we love her, how many of us would want to be around her when she's sporting an eyepatch and new knife/scalpel/pen?
Although she might just be wearing it as a fashion statement. For which I applaud her. The girl wears combat boots with over-sized dresses. Adding an eyepatch is just the icing on the cake.
Maybe she's a pirate. Now we need a parrot. I've always wanted a parrot. It would be so cool! I could teach it to say OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!
Wait. That's Alice in Wonderland. Oh well. Still would be cool. Then, of course, we'd have to play croquet. With flamingos. I wonder how the flamingos feel about that. Did they apply for the jobs? What would the newspaper even say? Wanted: flamingos to be used as croquet mallets. Must have hard head and excellent orientation. Ability to not make the Queen of Hearts mad a plus.
I wonder if they would get a benefits package. I'd think that you'd really need a doctor after a while. And speaking of Alice in Wonderland, is not the Mad Hatter totally beyond awesome?
But back to the pirate: she'd need a pirate name. Captain Moonbrain? It kind of sounds like Captain Blackbeard…I wonder if she'd have a hook. Or a peg leg. Maybe both. Hmmm…now I want to be a pirate. I'm going to go find a sword. And chocolate. I'd bury the chocolate, but that would just be a waste of good sugar.