A/N: I was just sitting on my computer, re-reading my new chapter,
wondering how in the world I could squeeze some M/I in here like RitzBitz
suggested, and I got it! Sorry bout the delay, forbidden love fan, their
particular dynamic I just couldn't seem to get a hold of. But I got it now;
I just hope it comes off well. Geez, I've just been a writing machine over
the last few days, four chapters in, what, maybe a week? I'm awesome and
you guys should be so grateful. Leave reviews please, especially ones like
those of RitzBitz that practically GIVES me the focus of the next chapter!
I think I'm gonna start things off a little bit different with Wash, you
don't hardly ever hear much from him.
Wash stared at the large wrench sitting in front of him on top of the nav. board. He shouldn't have been dwelling on it, but he couldn't help it. He'd barely fired a GUN at anyone, let alone made somebody lose their entire MEMORY. He felt awful about it, he really did. The fear in that little girl's face while Mal decided her fate, that was the worst. Now she was nothing but a little piffle of dust, not even a dot on the radar. Wash had had little doubt Mal would take her in; he always took them in, but still his mind reeled at the horrible images of what his carelessness could have led her to. He looked out through the large windows of the cockpit. Usually the sight of all that emptiness with only tiny specks of light scattered around calmed him. For some reason, knowing that his trials were worth next to nothing on the cosmic scale made them easier to take. It was the same way when he looked into his wife's eyes; everything was easier to take then. He didn't know what he'd have done if she hadn't been there to hug him and tell him the little girl would be okay. That poor girl-
"Hello?" came a half-whisper from outside the cockpit's hatch. Wash jerked out of his reclined position; his feet propped up on the consol, and whipped around to see the very object of his turmoil standing meekly outside the cockpit.
"Hi," he said shakily. He was trying desperately to hide his pain at seeing her, "Kaylee said you were takin' a nap."
She smiled sheepishly, "Woke up."
"Oh," he had no idea what to say to her, his personal guilt trip personified. But she wasn't looking at him now; she was staring out of the windows as he had been, "'mazin', huh?" He nodded toward the stars.
"Yeah," she said in a hushed voice, as if they were in a cathedral and she dared not speak any louder, "There's so many of 'em." She silently lowered herself into the copilot's seat next to him, and they were both silent as the stars slipped past the window. The only noise was the regular beep of the autopilot, "Where we headed?"
"Boros," Wash said just as quietly, "It'll only be another few hours before we're there, see?" He pointed to a hazy nebula in the distance, "That's the Charmed Nebula. It's kinda a checkpoint for ships comin' from this direction. Shows we got about two to four more hours 'til we arrive."
"No kidding," she replied with curiosity, watching the nebula slip past the window.
"Nope," he said with a little pride. He never quite forgot that he WAS the best in the business, "There's all kinds of checkpoints around a moon, or planet, or even a big space rock people've colonized, ta' help pilots find their way around places. 'S helpful, 'specially if you own a ship without autopilot."
"Hey," came another voice from beyond the cockpit. The volume of it startled Wash and the girl; they'd been nearly whispering the entire time. The voice belonged to Kaylee, who stepped inside the dark space and looked out the windows with the other two, "C'mon," she said to the girl, "This stuff's boring, I'll show ya' something real shiny." The girl let Kaylee lead her out of the cool dark of the cockpit to the warmth of the ship's interior. Kaylee walked them along the catwalks to Inara's shuttle.
"Hey, 'Nara," Kaylee said with a few polite taps on the hatch, "Busy?"
The companion opened the hatch with a smile, "Not too busy," she replied in her perpetually cultured voice. Kaylee harbored a secret desire to hear Inara talk like she did, as well as she to talk like Inara.
Kaylee felt her smile widen as she stepped into the rich elegance of Inara's shuttle. Walking into the carpeted, sweet-smelling place was always an escape for her from the dirty, dangerous engine room. She curled herself up in one of the velvet seats with a sigh of almost relief, while the girl stayed standing. Inara poured some tea from her porcelain set she kept against a wall.
"Sit with us, um- girl," Kaylee urged, but the request ended with a grimace, "This won't work, callin' you girl all the time. It ain't right!" The girl watched her with wide eyes. She'd never seen Kaylee upset before. Inara nodded her concurrence from behind her teacup.
"What're you gonna do?" the girl asked, "Name me?"
"That's precisely what we're going to do," Inara responded.
Kaylee smiled excitedly and sat up straighter, nearly spilling hot tea in her lap, "Don't look so scared," she consoled the girl, "Wouldja' rather be called girl the whole time yer here?" She shook her head emphatically.
"Well," Inara said, "All right then." She thought for a moment, "How about Kessia?"
Kaylee frowned and shook her head, "Should be simple, like, Kate."
"Why not Solana?" Inara suggested, although it seemed to be aimed at Kaylee.
"Or Ann?" Kaylee said, determined not to be outdone.
"Or Hoshi?"
"Or Lisa?"
"Or Titania?"
"Or Meg?"
"Hold on!" cried the girl, "Isn't there an easier way to do this than you all shoutin' names at me?"
Both women studied their laps red-faced. Inara, always the picture of courtesy in any situation, no matter how strange, replied first, "You're absolutely right, there has to be and easier way."
Kaylee glanced up then, "Yeah, but how?"
They sat silent, wrapped in their own thoughts. Inara's mind wandered as she looked at the girl. She reminded the companion of someone she'd met while being trained. They'd been good friends throughout their education, but had drifted apart and gone their separate ways, as was the case for most of any companion's friendships. She only saw her at the odd ball in which she'd decorate a client's arm and hardly ever speak. That was her job. They would perform the small smile of recognition, but very little beyond that. She had a beautiful name though; it made Inara smile just thinking about it-
"Alethea," she whispered quietly.
"Huh?" Kaylee said.
"An old friend of mine," Inara quickly clarified, "Her name was Alethea. We called her Ali."
"Ali . . ." the girl said, testing out the name. Kaylee did the same.
"Well," the redhead decided, "That sounds good ta' me, simple, but pretty. Ali."
"What?" Ali said with a smile. All three women laughed, feeling lighter now that the decision was made.
They chatted for a while until Mal suddenly materialized inside the hatch. Inara scowled at him; once again he had flouted her knocking rule. Why? Why did he always DO that? It drove Inara absolutely crazy, which was such a hard thing to do to begin with it never ceased to amaze her.
"Yes, captain," she said in a clipped tone.
He looked amused, "Thought I heard a gabfest in progress in here. Any good gossip?" He walked into the center of their little circle. Inara felt herself blush, Wow, he's tall, and he's got a great- she stopped herself right there. She forced the blush into submission, He's your ride, not your client, he's your ride, not your client. Was Kaylee saying something?
"-So we decided on Alethea, but Ali for short," the mechanic finished with a smile that Mal returned.
"Well," he said, turning to Ali, "Welcome aboard Serenity, Ali. I still havta' find a use fer ya', but I'm gettin close." He turned back to Kaylee, "You still have uh' job to finish, lil' lady. I believe down in the engine area."
"Yeah, cap'n," Kaylee replied sullenly, "I'll get on that." She marched off to her duties with the captain on her heels. Ali couldn't help but smile at Inara's cat-like eyes watching Mal's exit.
"You like him, don't you," she said slyly. Inara didn't say anything, but nodded slightly. Then she blinked rapidly and her eyes were on Ali.
"What? What did you say?"
Ali giggled, "Wow, a lady like you 'n a cowboy like him-"
"What are you talking about?" The companion's voice was dead steel, but she couldn't stamp out the sparks in her eyes.
"You like him," her light voice went into a drunk, sing-songy tone, "You wanna kiss him, you wanna be his forever-" She was stopped by the direct hit of a silken pillow to her face, which only made her dissolve into giggles as Inara pouted.
"Absolutely not!" she cried, "Even the idea is just- no. He's my ride. I do NOT need the complications. It would be far too difficult, for both of us. Not that it- anything would EVER happen! No, absolutely not." Her eyes stayed glued to the hatch where Mal had so recently stood, completely unbidden, just there. Ugh, the pig, how dare he! She felt the fiery anger boil up again, soundly burning to a cinder any other less durable thoughts of the captain. Good, she felt better. That always worked, anything other than thick, lasting and bitter dislike for the captain could be seared away, never to be felt again.
Ali could see it happen, see the companion stomp all over the defenseless emotions brought on by the captain's presence as if they were unwanted insects in need of extermination. It made her very sad to watch Inara turn herself off and become a stone flower for her next client. While taking Ali to her new quarters Kaylee had given her a rundown of the other crewmembers, so she knew that Inara was not much better than an expensive prostitute. The ONLY real difference was her first-class education as far as Ali could see. But she knew in her heart that the results of this life would be the same as any other common whore. Inara would die already dead on the inside and completely alone. Ali desperately didn't want to see that happen, but there seemed nothing she could do.
"I'm gonna go, Inara," she said quietly. The companion jerked out of her trance with a polite smile.
"Alright," she replied, "I'll see you later then, Ali." Ali smiled back, and left.
Ali wandered around Serenity slowly. She had nothing to do until Mal revealed her new orders. Somehow she ended up in the galley of the ship. The girl poked around at the pots and pans hanging up, the pantry full of preserved foods. Nothing looked particularly appetizing, especially the large container of tan mush that had been their breakfast, but her stomach was growling again, so she continued her browsing until she came across some basics. Flour, a little baking powder, some milk and salt from the table. She set those items on the counter and continued her search. She wasn't sure the goal of her hunt, but she kept scanning the shelves of the meat locker that served as an all-around refrigerator for the less long lasting food.
"Ah-ha!" she cried, "Spoils!" She wrapped her fingers delicately around the smooth white surface of the egg, gently ferrying it out of the cold and placing it on the counter. Ali got out of the refrigerator; she had been nearly on her hands and knees searching for the egg. She stood back from her lineup of ingredients in confusion. What in the world was she gonna do with those things? Well, so far she'd mostly left her body to do the work of grabbing the necessary items. Why not? her mind asked, as she took a deep breath and started working with her eyes closed. Immediately her hands threw the flour, baking powder, and salt into one bowl and the milk and egg in another. She used a spoon to mix up the milk and egg until pale yellow foam rose. Then she added the contents of the other bowl and mixed that in.
She stood back and stared at the bowl of beige batter that sat on the counter. A bubble popped on the surface, leaving a circular impression that faded quickly. Her groaning stomach urged her to keep going, so she closed her eyes and reached out her hands once more. They went for a pan she'd passed earlier, taking it off the nail that kept it hanging from the wall and slamming it down onto the primitive stove that served as Serenity's only cooking surface, flicking it to HIGH. Holding the pan's handle in her left hand, she used her right to pour a circle of batter onto the pan's sizzling surface. Her left hand let go of the pan handle long enough to reach for a dusty spatula next to the stove and flip the circle of batter over with an expert flick of the wrist. The side that had previously been against the pan was a golden brown. Her right hand yanked open a cabinet and reached for a plate among the preferred bowls just in time for her left to flick its wrist again and land a fluffy pancake dead center on it.
Ali repeated this process, getting more fluid every time, until she had three golden-brown pancakes sitting on the plate. She smiled, and took a long whiff of their delicious aroma as she sat down at the galley's table with the necessary utensils. Ali didn't know how she'd done it, but she had made some tasty pancakes without even thinking about it. She smiled even wider as she enjoyed her meal.
Mal shifted in his reclined position against the engine. The vibration was great on his back, but for some reason he couldn't get comfortable. He knew the reason, or reasons. One, he couldn't think of a gorram' thing for Ali to do to earn her keep. Two, River, but she was always classified as a "worry", never anything else. Three, he HAD to stop thinking about Inara, just had to find a way to get rid of it all. Too bad he didn't want it to go away. He took a deep breath and sank against the engine, worn out. Wait a minute. He took another breath through his nose. What was that? Another breath- smells delicious. He stood up and started walking, following his nose. Ah, he hadn't smelled that for years. The smell pulled him by the nostrils into the galley.
"Ali?" he said in wonder, watching the girl cutting the fluffy pancakes into neat squares. She looked up with a smile. Her eyes seemed to glitter.
"Yeah, cap'n?" She took a bite of the pancakes.
Maybe he was wrong, "Where'd ya' get the pancakes?"
"Made 'em." She concentrated on her meal.
Mal didn't remember having any cookbooks on board, "How?"
She looked back at him with an undecipherable look on her face, "Ya' know, I'm not sure."
Mal sat at the head of the table closest to her so he could see her face, "What does that mean?"
"I just sorta closed my eyes 'n I made 'em."
"I don't think you understand how similar that lil story is to a bald- faced lie, Ali. Usually takes a lil' bit uh' mem'ry to recall the exact recipe uh' fluffy golden pancakes." His face looked stonily into hers.
"I was worried 'bout that," she said quietly, "I guess all you can do is chose to believe me, or chose not to." She dropped her eyes to the pancakes cooling on the plate.
"Come with me," Mal said, getting up from the table. His voice held a frightening tone as he called Simon's name. Ali quickly followed him down Serenity's halls to Simon and River's cabin. Simon glanced up from the book in his lap as Mal entered with Ali in tow, "Simon, she can make pancakes."
"What?"
"Pancakes, Simon, listen. How can she make pancakes if she hasn't got a mem'ry fer her ta' remember a recipe with?"
The young doctor scratched his head, thinking. During the days Ali was unconscious he had pored over the few medical texts he had been able to bring with him, searching for anything pertaining to amnesia. Inara had even been kind enough to let him use her computer system to search for information, "Could be muscle memory," he suggested.
Mal stared at him blankly, "'N that is?"
Simon hid his exasperation, "You know how you, say, have a routine for what you do in the morning. Like, you get up, you get dressed, you brush your teeth, and you comb your hair. The body gets used to it, so used to it you don't even have to think about it, you just do it. Muscle memory usually lasts twelve to eight months- how exactly did you make the pancakes, um-" Simon's good manners wouldn't allow him to call the girl "girl."
"Ali," she piped up and unexpectedly smiled, "Kaylee and Inara came up with it." The doctor and the captain both felt similar pangs of something they couldn't quite describe, but somehow it lightened their moods.
"So, Ali, what did you do when you made the pancakes?"
His eyes were kind and curious, but she felt uncomfortable. She had no idea how to describe what had happened in the galley, "Uh, I kinda just- it wasn't like- I," Mal's skeptical look deepened, "I didn't use a recipe, I just kinda knew what to do," she spat it out in seconds, "What I did," she slowed down slightly, "I closed my eyes, and my hands did the whole thing. I didn't even do it really."
"You're innocent?" Mal said sarcastically.
Simon gave the captain a withering look, "Mal, this sounds like muscle memory to me."
"Fine, I'll give ya' benefit uh' the doubt fer this one, Ali." The girl smiled slightly, "Simon, run a coupla' yer tests, figger out exactly what's goin' on in her head, aright?" The young doctor nodded, "Good. Ali? From now on yer Serenity's cook."
A/N: Sorry bout that last part, my brother turned on TV and it's distracting me. There, a nice little bit of M/I for you to chew on. Enjoy! O, n happy holidays!
Wash stared at the large wrench sitting in front of him on top of the nav. board. He shouldn't have been dwelling on it, but he couldn't help it. He'd barely fired a GUN at anyone, let alone made somebody lose their entire MEMORY. He felt awful about it, he really did. The fear in that little girl's face while Mal decided her fate, that was the worst. Now she was nothing but a little piffle of dust, not even a dot on the radar. Wash had had little doubt Mal would take her in; he always took them in, but still his mind reeled at the horrible images of what his carelessness could have led her to. He looked out through the large windows of the cockpit. Usually the sight of all that emptiness with only tiny specks of light scattered around calmed him. For some reason, knowing that his trials were worth next to nothing on the cosmic scale made them easier to take. It was the same way when he looked into his wife's eyes; everything was easier to take then. He didn't know what he'd have done if she hadn't been there to hug him and tell him the little girl would be okay. That poor girl-
"Hello?" came a half-whisper from outside the cockpit's hatch. Wash jerked out of his reclined position; his feet propped up on the consol, and whipped around to see the very object of his turmoil standing meekly outside the cockpit.
"Hi," he said shakily. He was trying desperately to hide his pain at seeing her, "Kaylee said you were takin' a nap."
She smiled sheepishly, "Woke up."
"Oh," he had no idea what to say to her, his personal guilt trip personified. But she wasn't looking at him now; she was staring out of the windows as he had been, "'mazin', huh?" He nodded toward the stars.
"Yeah," she said in a hushed voice, as if they were in a cathedral and she dared not speak any louder, "There's so many of 'em." She silently lowered herself into the copilot's seat next to him, and they were both silent as the stars slipped past the window. The only noise was the regular beep of the autopilot, "Where we headed?"
"Boros," Wash said just as quietly, "It'll only be another few hours before we're there, see?" He pointed to a hazy nebula in the distance, "That's the Charmed Nebula. It's kinda a checkpoint for ships comin' from this direction. Shows we got about two to four more hours 'til we arrive."
"No kidding," she replied with curiosity, watching the nebula slip past the window.
"Nope," he said with a little pride. He never quite forgot that he WAS the best in the business, "There's all kinds of checkpoints around a moon, or planet, or even a big space rock people've colonized, ta' help pilots find their way around places. 'S helpful, 'specially if you own a ship without autopilot."
"Hey," came another voice from beyond the cockpit. The volume of it startled Wash and the girl; they'd been nearly whispering the entire time. The voice belonged to Kaylee, who stepped inside the dark space and looked out the windows with the other two, "C'mon," she said to the girl, "This stuff's boring, I'll show ya' something real shiny." The girl let Kaylee lead her out of the cool dark of the cockpit to the warmth of the ship's interior. Kaylee walked them along the catwalks to Inara's shuttle.
"Hey, 'Nara," Kaylee said with a few polite taps on the hatch, "Busy?"
The companion opened the hatch with a smile, "Not too busy," she replied in her perpetually cultured voice. Kaylee harbored a secret desire to hear Inara talk like she did, as well as she to talk like Inara.
Kaylee felt her smile widen as she stepped into the rich elegance of Inara's shuttle. Walking into the carpeted, sweet-smelling place was always an escape for her from the dirty, dangerous engine room. She curled herself up in one of the velvet seats with a sigh of almost relief, while the girl stayed standing. Inara poured some tea from her porcelain set she kept against a wall.
"Sit with us, um- girl," Kaylee urged, but the request ended with a grimace, "This won't work, callin' you girl all the time. It ain't right!" The girl watched her with wide eyes. She'd never seen Kaylee upset before. Inara nodded her concurrence from behind her teacup.
"What're you gonna do?" the girl asked, "Name me?"
"That's precisely what we're going to do," Inara responded.
Kaylee smiled excitedly and sat up straighter, nearly spilling hot tea in her lap, "Don't look so scared," she consoled the girl, "Wouldja' rather be called girl the whole time yer here?" She shook her head emphatically.
"Well," Inara said, "All right then." She thought for a moment, "How about Kessia?"
Kaylee frowned and shook her head, "Should be simple, like, Kate."
"Why not Solana?" Inara suggested, although it seemed to be aimed at Kaylee.
"Or Ann?" Kaylee said, determined not to be outdone.
"Or Hoshi?"
"Or Lisa?"
"Or Titania?"
"Or Meg?"
"Hold on!" cried the girl, "Isn't there an easier way to do this than you all shoutin' names at me?"
Both women studied their laps red-faced. Inara, always the picture of courtesy in any situation, no matter how strange, replied first, "You're absolutely right, there has to be and easier way."
Kaylee glanced up then, "Yeah, but how?"
They sat silent, wrapped in their own thoughts. Inara's mind wandered as she looked at the girl. She reminded the companion of someone she'd met while being trained. They'd been good friends throughout their education, but had drifted apart and gone their separate ways, as was the case for most of any companion's friendships. She only saw her at the odd ball in which she'd decorate a client's arm and hardly ever speak. That was her job. They would perform the small smile of recognition, but very little beyond that. She had a beautiful name though; it made Inara smile just thinking about it-
"Alethea," she whispered quietly.
"Huh?" Kaylee said.
"An old friend of mine," Inara quickly clarified, "Her name was Alethea. We called her Ali."
"Ali . . ." the girl said, testing out the name. Kaylee did the same.
"Well," the redhead decided, "That sounds good ta' me, simple, but pretty. Ali."
"What?" Ali said with a smile. All three women laughed, feeling lighter now that the decision was made.
They chatted for a while until Mal suddenly materialized inside the hatch. Inara scowled at him; once again he had flouted her knocking rule. Why? Why did he always DO that? It drove Inara absolutely crazy, which was such a hard thing to do to begin with it never ceased to amaze her.
"Yes, captain," she said in a clipped tone.
He looked amused, "Thought I heard a gabfest in progress in here. Any good gossip?" He walked into the center of their little circle. Inara felt herself blush, Wow, he's tall, and he's got a great- she stopped herself right there. She forced the blush into submission, He's your ride, not your client, he's your ride, not your client. Was Kaylee saying something?
"-So we decided on Alethea, but Ali for short," the mechanic finished with a smile that Mal returned.
"Well," he said, turning to Ali, "Welcome aboard Serenity, Ali. I still havta' find a use fer ya', but I'm gettin close." He turned back to Kaylee, "You still have uh' job to finish, lil' lady. I believe down in the engine area."
"Yeah, cap'n," Kaylee replied sullenly, "I'll get on that." She marched off to her duties with the captain on her heels. Ali couldn't help but smile at Inara's cat-like eyes watching Mal's exit.
"You like him, don't you," she said slyly. Inara didn't say anything, but nodded slightly. Then she blinked rapidly and her eyes were on Ali.
"What? What did you say?"
Ali giggled, "Wow, a lady like you 'n a cowboy like him-"
"What are you talking about?" The companion's voice was dead steel, but she couldn't stamp out the sparks in her eyes.
"You like him," her light voice went into a drunk, sing-songy tone, "You wanna kiss him, you wanna be his forever-" She was stopped by the direct hit of a silken pillow to her face, which only made her dissolve into giggles as Inara pouted.
"Absolutely not!" she cried, "Even the idea is just- no. He's my ride. I do NOT need the complications. It would be far too difficult, for both of us. Not that it- anything would EVER happen! No, absolutely not." Her eyes stayed glued to the hatch where Mal had so recently stood, completely unbidden, just there. Ugh, the pig, how dare he! She felt the fiery anger boil up again, soundly burning to a cinder any other less durable thoughts of the captain. Good, she felt better. That always worked, anything other than thick, lasting and bitter dislike for the captain could be seared away, never to be felt again.
Ali could see it happen, see the companion stomp all over the defenseless emotions brought on by the captain's presence as if they were unwanted insects in need of extermination. It made her very sad to watch Inara turn herself off and become a stone flower for her next client. While taking Ali to her new quarters Kaylee had given her a rundown of the other crewmembers, so she knew that Inara was not much better than an expensive prostitute. The ONLY real difference was her first-class education as far as Ali could see. But she knew in her heart that the results of this life would be the same as any other common whore. Inara would die already dead on the inside and completely alone. Ali desperately didn't want to see that happen, but there seemed nothing she could do.
"I'm gonna go, Inara," she said quietly. The companion jerked out of her trance with a polite smile.
"Alright," she replied, "I'll see you later then, Ali." Ali smiled back, and left.
Ali wandered around Serenity slowly. She had nothing to do until Mal revealed her new orders. Somehow she ended up in the galley of the ship. The girl poked around at the pots and pans hanging up, the pantry full of preserved foods. Nothing looked particularly appetizing, especially the large container of tan mush that had been their breakfast, but her stomach was growling again, so she continued her browsing until she came across some basics. Flour, a little baking powder, some milk and salt from the table. She set those items on the counter and continued her search. She wasn't sure the goal of her hunt, but she kept scanning the shelves of the meat locker that served as an all-around refrigerator for the less long lasting food.
"Ah-ha!" she cried, "Spoils!" She wrapped her fingers delicately around the smooth white surface of the egg, gently ferrying it out of the cold and placing it on the counter. Ali got out of the refrigerator; she had been nearly on her hands and knees searching for the egg. She stood back from her lineup of ingredients in confusion. What in the world was she gonna do with those things? Well, so far she'd mostly left her body to do the work of grabbing the necessary items. Why not? her mind asked, as she took a deep breath and started working with her eyes closed. Immediately her hands threw the flour, baking powder, and salt into one bowl and the milk and egg in another. She used a spoon to mix up the milk and egg until pale yellow foam rose. Then she added the contents of the other bowl and mixed that in.
She stood back and stared at the bowl of beige batter that sat on the counter. A bubble popped on the surface, leaving a circular impression that faded quickly. Her groaning stomach urged her to keep going, so she closed her eyes and reached out her hands once more. They went for a pan she'd passed earlier, taking it off the nail that kept it hanging from the wall and slamming it down onto the primitive stove that served as Serenity's only cooking surface, flicking it to HIGH. Holding the pan's handle in her left hand, she used her right to pour a circle of batter onto the pan's sizzling surface. Her left hand let go of the pan handle long enough to reach for a dusty spatula next to the stove and flip the circle of batter over with an expert flick of the wrist. The side that had previously been against the pan was a golden brown. Her right hand yanked open a cabinet and reached for a plate among the preferred bowls just in time for her left to flick its wrist again and land a fluffy pancake dead center on it.
Ali repeated this process, getting more fluid every time, until she had three golden-brown pancakes sitting on the plate. She smiled, and took a long whiff of their delicious aroma as she sat down at the galley's table with the necessary utensils. Ali didn't know how she'd done it, but she had made some tasty pancakes without even thinking about it. She smiled even wider as she enjoyed her meal.
Mal shifted in his reclined position against the engine. The vibration was great on his back, but for some reason he couldn't get comfortable. He knew the reason, or reasons. One, he couldn't think of a gorram' thing for Ali to do to earn her keep. Two, River, but she was always classified as a "worry", never anything else. Three, he HAD to stop thinking about Inara, just had to find a way to get rid of it all. Too bad he didn't want it to go away. He took a deep breath and sank against the engine, worn out. Wait a minute. He took another breath through his nose. What was that? Another breath- smells delicious. He stood up and started walking, following his nose. Ah, he hadn't smelled that for years. The smell pulled him by the nostrils into the galley.
"Ali?" he said in wonder, watching the girl cutting the fluffy pancakes into neat squares. She looked up with a smile. Her eyes seemed to glitter.
"Yeah, cap'n?" She took a bite of the pancakes.
Maybe he was wrong, "Where'd ya' get the pancakes?"
"Made 'em." She concentrated on her meal.
Mal didn't remember having any cookbooks on board, "How?"
She looked back at him with an undecipherable look on her face, "Ya' know, I'm not sure."
Mal sat at the head of the table closest to her so he could see her face, "What does that mean?"
"I just sorta closed my eyes 'n I made 'em."
"I don't think you understand how similar that lil story is to a bald- faced lie, Ali. Usually takes a lil' bit uh' mem'ry to recall the exact recipe uh' fluffy golden pancakes." His face looked stonily into hers.
"I was worried 'bout that," she said quietly, "I guess all you can do is chose to believe me, or chose not to." She dropped her eyes to the pancakes cooling on the plate.
"Come with me," Mal said, getting up from the table. His voice held a frightening tone as he called Simon's name. Ali quickly followed him down Serenity's halls to Simon and River's cabin. Simon glanced up from the book in his lap as Mal entered with Ali in tow, "Simon, she can make pancakes."
"What?"
"Pancakes, Simon, listen. How can she make pancakes if she hasn't got a mem'ry fer her ta' remember a recipe with?"
The young doctor scratched his head, thinking. During the days Ali was unconscious he had pored over the few medical texts he had been able to bring with him, searching for anything pertaining to amnesia. Inara had even been kind enough to let him use her computer system to search for information, "Could be muscle memory," he suggested.
Mal stared at him blankly, "'N that is?"
Simon hid his exasperation, "You know how you, say, have a routine for what you do in the morning. Like, you get up, you get dressed, you brush your teeth, and you comb your hair. The body gets used to it, so used to it you don't even have to think about it, you just do it. Muscle memory usually lasts twelve to eight months- how exactly did you make the pancakes, um-" Simon's good manners wouldn't allow him to call the girl "girl."
"Ali," she piped up and unexpectedly smiled, "Kaylee and Inara came up with it." The doctor and the captain both felt similar pangs of something they couldn't quite describe, but somehow it lightened their moods.
"So, Ali, what did you do when you made the pancakes?"
His eyes were kind and curious, but she felt uncomfortable. She had no idea how to describe what had happened in the galley, "Uh, I kinda just- it wasn't like- I," Mal's skeptical look deepened, "I didn't use a recipe, I just kinda knew what to do," she spat it out in seconds, "What I did," she slowed down slightly, "I closed my eyes, and my hands did the whole thing. I didn't even do it really."
"You're innocent?" Mal said sarcastically.
Simon gave the captain a withering look, "Mal, this sounds like muscle memory to me."
"Fine, I'll give ya' benefit uh' the doubt fer this one, Ali." The girl smiled slightly, "Simon, run a coupla' yer tests, figger out exactly what's goin' on in her head, aright?" The young doctor nodded, "Good. Ali? From now on yer Serenity's cook."
A/N: Sorry bout that last part, my brother turned on TV and it's distracting me. There, a nice little bit of M/I for you to chew on. Enjoy! O, n happy holidays!