Chapter 2: On the Prowl

The next morning, both traps were sprung again, bait gone. Mal was sitting on the floor in the kitchen, resetting one with total disregard for any breakfast preparations. Inara came around the counter and bumped into him just as he was getting the trap to stay open. It sprang shut with a loud snap, right on the captain's thumb. "Ni ta da me!" Mal howled, shaking his hand frantically. He tore the trap off and shoved the offended digit into his mouth. "Watch where you're going, woman!" he mumbled around it.

"Couldn't that wait until we're done eating?" she asked. "I hardly think a mouse is going to come out for food while we're all rattling around in here."

He pulled his thumb out and regarded it seriously. "Nothing they do will surprise me," he assured her. "These are clever and courageous vermin."

"Why?" she asked. "Outsmarting you is hardly an indicator of superior intelligence."

He put his thumb back in his mouth and sucked on it mournfully.

Inara tried again. "Do you really think you'll catch anything with those idiotic traps? At the rate they breed, ten will be born for every one that you catch!"

The thumb came back out and he cocked it at her. "Well, you see, this is just the first phase of my master plan. I'm working out the details of a phase two that should be the stuff of legends for generations to come." He went back to setting the trap.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, spare me the finer details, please. By the way, against all rational expectations, I've received an attractive request for an appointment tomorrow in Glendale. I should be back by mid-morning the next day. Will that work out?"

The trap snapped shut again and nearly leaped from Mal's hand. With a curse, he jumped to his feet and hurled it into the far corner of the lounge area. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

Inara touched his shoulder. "Mal?"

He massaged his forehead a moment and then looked at her, his face carefully expressionless, his tone casual. "Should be okay. We've never dealt with this contact before. I'm not bound to trust him if he pressures us to move before morning. 'Sides, Kaylee'll be lookin' around for salvage, and we need to lay in some fresh supplies. Morning should be in plenty of time." He paused for a beat.

"But couldn't you have waited to bring this up until we were done eating?"

Inara dimpled at him. "Does this mean that you are actually going to grace us with your presence at the breakfast table this morning?"

"That's asking a lot, seeing as how Jayne's cooking this morning. But I'll give it a try."

Zoe was checking the Cortex for any alerts from Greenleaf while Wash checked on their course. She heard a soft tread on the stairs and looked up as Inara poked her head into the bridge.

The companion paused and smiled brightly. "Any updates on our expected arrival time?" she asked.

Wash smiled proudly. "If anything, we will be an hour or so ahead of my earlier estimates."

"Well, that's good to hear. Then we'll all be able to get to our business that much sooner."

"Yes, yes, we will," the pilot agreed. "I'll get to purchase exciting supplies while my wife engages in probable criminal activities. I'm tingling with anticipation--I can hardly wait to get there!"

Inara smiled awkwardly. Zoe could tell that she wanted to say something further, but was having trouble bringing it up. "Is there something you're concerned about, Inara?" she asked.

The companion nodded in relief. "Yes. I'm --I'm worried about Mal. He's skipped most meals the past couple of weeks and he barely ate this morning. He's lost weight, and he doesn't look like he's sleeping."

"He'll be fine," Zoe cut her off.

"It just seems that ever since that bounty hunter came on board, he's--"

"Captain'll be fine. He's dealing with things. It'll just take him a little time to finish."

"He has been a little tetchy," Wash observed. "I can understand that Kaylee is still upset, and Simon should probably be having nightmares, but Mal usually just takes things and keeps going. Mouse hunting seems to agree with him, though."

Zoe looked from her husband to the companion, weighing their concern and their discretion. "This is different," she said. "That huh choo-sheng tza-jiao duh tzang-huo sneaked on board Serenity and took the Captain out before he even knew we'd been invaded. Captain can take all kinds of physical pain and direct confrontation, but Serenity is his refuge. You didn't know him before he got the ship--you can't know how rebuilding Serenity and getting her going was what got Mal going again, too. He put Sergeant Reynolds of the Independent Army behind him and became Captain Reynolds, a free man. He doesn't just love this ship--it's part of him. Early's visit was a violation."

"It was like rape," Inara interjected, her eyes wide with the revelation.

Zoe nodded. "In a lot of ways."

"Well, as his friends, we should--"

"Leave it alone, Inara. The Captain will find a way to get past this, and he won't take kindly to being coddled or tiptoed around. Let him have his distractions, and just treat him like you always have."

Later that morning, Mal was staring forlornly at the growing list of needed supplies and the probable tally of expenses when Inara stomped up to him. "Just look at this!" she fumed, waving a fistful of perfumed finery under his nose. He looked up in mild surprise and gently took the proffered item. Ever so delicately, he grasped it by the straps and held up a flowing undergarment. Or was it nightwear?

"Okay. I'm lookin'. Enjoyin', even. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Oooooh!" She snatched it away from him and poked her fingers through the ragged hole in the midsection. "Look! Something has been chewing on it!"

"I figured that's normal collateral damage."

"Ha ha. Joke if you like, but I'm taking the price of this--and any other damaged items--out of this month's rent. And I expect you to get up to my shuttle and certify it free of mice, or rats, or--or jack rabbits before I leave for my appointment!"

He ran his fingers back through his hair, brushing it off his forehead. "Right! Lead the way."

At the shuttle, Inara hung back by the door while he entered and looked around. "How thoroughly do you want me to search?" he asked with a wry grin.

"Very thoroughly. I don't want any unpleasant surprises."

He nodded. "Okay. Okay, then. We'll just start here at the dresser and work our way around." He opened the top dresser drawer and started taking clothing out and putting it on the bed. He made an effort to retain the stacks as they were, but he riffled through them all and touched each and every garment. "No sign of damage on any of these." He paused to sniff one stack delicately and give a dreamy sigh. Then he ran his hand around the empty drawer. "And no traces in here." He looked up and asked politely, "Shall I put this back as I go, or do you want me to leave it all out until the end?"

Inara threw her hands up angrily. "Just put it back as you go!"

"Yes, ma'am!" He carefully placed all the stacks back into the drawer and moved on to the next one. It contained various intriguing paraphernalia. He pulled all of it out, piece by piece, and lined it all up on the bed without a single comment beyond several puzzled looks. Inara tapped her foot.

He started to put it all back in the drawer when his attention was caught by a lilting laugh outside the door. River, a long sweater sagging nearly to her knees, floated in and picked up a feathery doohickey from the row. She waved it at Mal, smiled coyly, and said, "Savage bed foot-warmer!"

"Really?" he asked. "I woulda sworn it was for warming somethin' else entirely. How about it, Inara? Isn't that for--"

"Just leave these things and move on!" the companion ordered. She jerked the thingamabob from River's hand, flung it onto the bed, and pulled the bedspread up around the edges to cover everything.

"Next drawer!" River announced. She spun around, knelt by the bottom drawer and yanked it open. She thrust both hands in and brought up an armload of silky nothings. Mal reached to take some of it from her, and suddenly jumped back as two mice scurried out from the folds and across his hands. They dropped to the floor with muffled thuds and vanished under the bed.

Inara let out a high-pitched "Agh!" and fled the room.

"Well, this is progress," Mal commented. He grabbed the finery from River and shoved it back in the drawer. Then he got down on hands and knees and peered under the bed. Dark.

Grabbing a pillow off the bed, he stripped off the case and tossed it to the girl. "I'll chase 'em out towards you. See if you can scoop 'em up in that."

She nodded enthusiastically and took up her position while he stretched out on his stomach and waved his hand under the bed. The mice bolted--first towards River, but then they veered and scampered right past the captain's nose. From his perspective, they suddenly loomed monstrously before him and he couldn't refrain from rolling away from them with a cry of alarm. Then he just lay on his back, flummoxed.

River laughed at him. Then she chucked the pillowcase over her shoulder and crooked her fingers menacingly. "Thoughts of mouse-and-apple pie!" she declaimed, rushing past Mal into the corner where the mice had retreated.

Mal flinched. Before him swam Niska's face with a welcoming smile. "Now we'll get to know the real you, Mr. Reynolds," he said.

The next moment, Niska was gone and River was pursuing the mice out the shuttle door past Inara, who plastered herself against the wall to let all three pass. Mal followed them with his eyes as he climbed to his feet. His face was thoughtful as he gave Inara's quarters a final cursory inspection. He was very confident that no other mice remained in the shuttle.

Mal found Simon alone in the infirmary, poring over readouts from Ariel for the hundredth time, hoping for insight. The captain stood right across the desk from the doctor and spoke softly. "Doctor, I never did make a formal decision regarding our discussions about your sister's spells and her talents."

Simon looked up, nervous. "No--no, you didn't. I guess I thought that her handling of Early put your mind to rest regarding that."

"That situation raised more questions than it answered, doctor. She handled it well, but her method of handling it was a little unorthodox, don't you think?"

"River has always been unorthodox, Captain."

"We're not talking about being creative here. We're talking about reading minds. And maybe more."

"More?"

Mal paused to consider his next words. "Is it possible that she can project thoughts into other people's minds?"

Simon was visibly stunned by the question. "Project her thoughts? I don't know if such a thing is possible at all, much less whether River can do it."

"Has she been having nightmares about Early?"

"Well, she often wakes up screaming. But recently, yes, I think some of them have been about him. He seems to frighten her more now that he's gone than he did while he was actually here. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I think she may be broadcasting her nightmares," Mal explained.

Simon looked at the captain, taking in his haggard look. "Mal, I'm not completely blind. I know that you're working on just a few hours of sleep a night, and that you've almost stopped eating altogether. You're suffering normal post-traumatic stress, and you haven't even tried to deal with it. Pinning this on River isn't going to make it any better for you!"

Mal's face darkened with barely controlled anger. "Doctor, I seem to be talking here, but you ain't exactly listening. Zoe'll tell you that I've been through some bad times, followed by more bad times while I worked through it all. But no matter how bad it got, I never was so far gone that I hallucinated--not without a ragin' fever. When I started seeing things, I thought maybe I was just going crazy--but Kaylee's been seeing things, too. It fits, doctor. And we ain't talking about just stampeding cattle. I can't afford to question my own eyes, and neither can Kaylee." He rubbed his eyes. "And, yes, I would like to sleep more than two hours in a night."

"Mal, I--I don't know what to do. This has caught me totally off guard. Frankly, I think that if she were broadcasting, I'd be the first to feel it. I'm closest to her. I'll consider the possibility."

"That's good of you, doctor," Mal replied sarcastically. "I would rather that you come up with a solution to this problem before I have to."

"Let me at least give you something to help you sleep," Simon offered, opening the medicine cabinet.

Mal shook his head. "No, no drugs. If I'm gonna have nightmares, I want to be able to wake up from them. Just consider what I said." He turned on his heel and strode out.

Ship's deep night found Mal prowling again. He told himself that he needed to check the traps. Of course, that only explained his patrols for the past night or two, but it would do as an excuse for the moment.

These nightly rounds were taking their toll: he hadn't had a full night's rest in several weeks now. And it wasn't the usual old memories this time. Tonight had been Early killing Simon and taking River back to torture and experimentation.

But tonight . . . tonight it's mice that need tending.

Predictably, the traps were sprung, bait gone. Same rutting drill. And practice didn't seem to lessen the risk to fingers one little bit. Must be those salvaged springs--too testy.

Kitchen done. Cargo bay finished. No mice. No sadistic crime lords. No metaphysical bounty hunters. Better check by the shuttles, though: they were up there earlier. All but the sadistic crime lord.

Lots of rutting stairs.

As he passed the top of the stairs out of the cargo bay, he heard a sudden clap. Hey. Could it be? Too much to hope for--probably another escape artist. With a resigned sigh, he turned around and headed back towards the stairs.

Jubal Early stood there, a manic smile on his lips and a massive gun in his hand. As he raised the gun to fire, Mal rushed forward with a cry and reached to shove his arm upward.

But there was no arm there, and the catwalk disappeared beneath his feet. He felt his ankle give way as he hit the stairs and tumbled down into darkness.

River sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide with alarm. She whimpered and pressed her hands to her temples. "My Captain! Rise up and hear the bells!"

Wash was dreaming. His arms were around a beautiful goddess, and she was naked and warm from loving, and totally tangled up in him. Funny . . . this goddess was his wife. How could that be? Oh, right . . . he was dreaming. Nice dream.

And then suddenly he was awake. The beautiful goddess had abruptly jerked upright and said that dreaded word: "Mal!"

Now she was grabbing a gun and bolting up the ladder, taking all the warmth with her. This was too much.

"Hey!" he protested. "Who--? Where--? Wait! Clothes!!!" He leaped from the bed, stumbled over the blankets they had pushed to the floor, and hopped around on one foot and then the other as he frantically pulled his boxers on. He grabbed a tropical shirt from the pile of clothes on a chair as he followed Zoe upwards.

She paused a moment in the hallway to spring the hatch to Jayne's bunk and call down, "Jayne! Trouble!" Then she was gone.

Wash pursued her doggedly, clutching the shirt to his chest with one hand and pulling at his hair with the other. "Hon! Sweety? Nakedness. Jayne. Can't be good!"

He caught up with her in the cargo bay on the stairs. She was crouched on the landing beside the splayed form of the captain.

"Get Simon!" she barked.

"Right!" he obeyed automatically, wheeling around and racing back to the passenger quarters. He pounded on the doctor's door and cried out, "Mal's hurt! Cargo bay!" He waited just long enough to hear a muffled response within and then rushed back to Zoe.

He collided with Jayne on the stairs. The mercenary was scanning the corners of the cargo area, a very large gun ready. Wash squeezed past him and tiptoed up the stairs to the landing. Mal was stirring, but Zoe had a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to lie still. Wash cast a nervous look at Jayne and draped his shirt over her shoulders. "Is he okay?"

Zoe met his eyes, her own face calm. "I think so. Everything is moving, and he's coming around."

"What happened? Not another midnight ambush?" He looked around nervously at the multiple entrances and overhangs in the cargo bay.

"No," the captain groaned, pushing himself up slightly on his elbows and grinding his forehead into the grating. "No bounty hunters. Just a little ac-accident."

"Captain! Just lie still a moment and let me make sure you haven't suffered some serious damage," Simon ordered as he scrambled up the stairs and flung himself down on his knees at Mal's side. "Can you wiggle all your fingers and toes?"

The captain balled his fists. "Uhhhhhhh. Just about." He pushed himself up on his left elbow and rolled over, holding his right leg out stiffly. Several of the toes were bleeding and the ankle and foot were both already swelling and turning colorful.

Jayne, convinced that there was no threat to defend against, slung his gun over his shoulder and sat on the steps above the landing. His eyes bored into Zoe's back.

"Was he unconscious when you found him?" Simon asked Zoe. His professional mien was replaced with an open-mouthed stare for a moment when he realized that she was dressed in nothing but a luau shirt draped over her back. He quickly busied himself checking Mal's pupils and feeling his head for bumps.

"Yes, but he started coming around almost immediately."

"Hmmm. He's a little shocky. Where's it hurt, Mal?"

"The ankle, mostways. I missed the step." He nodded towards the top of the offending staircase and froze.

Simon glanced up: River was leaning against the railing, her hair hanging in her face, staring intently down at Mal. "One brown mouse sitting in a cage," she remarked sadly.

"A, uh, mouse ran over my foot," Mal finished, turning his face away.

"The ankle looks bad," Simon declared. "Let's get you to the infirmary. Somebody help me carry him."

Jayne strode down the stairs and elbowed Simon aside. "I got 'im," he growled. He paused for a moment to make full use of his new vantage point and rake Zoe with his eyes.

Wash stepped in front of his wife and tried to turn her around while shielding her from Jayne's view. She returned Jayne's look with a cool stare before shrugging her arms into the shirt and buttoning it up.

Jayne grinned cockily and then knelt down and put his arms under Mal's knees and shoulders.

"Hey! Whoa!" Mal protested as he was lifted up. "I'm fairly sure there's a paragraph in ship's regs forbidding any manhandling of the captain! And you can be sure, Jayne, that I would be resisting but for a deep concern of looking womanish in front of the crew!"

"Aw, hell, Mal," Jayne protested. "They've seen me carry you plenty of times. This is just the first time you've been conscious, is all."

"Don't worry, Mal," Wash assured him. "This in no way detracts from your manly, commanding captainhood. That went out the airlock when you let a rodent push you down the stairs!"

Mal sighed and leaned his forehead into Jayne's shoulder, giving in. "Just be gentle with me!"