Matthew Mitchell Reynolds
This story and all themes and ideas contained in said story are the sole
ownership of J.L. Scott. Any copyright infringements can be prosecuted in a
court of law.
To borrow a phrase: Firefly no mine......no money, no sue, please?
"Zoë! Did you hear about this?" Malcolm stalked up to the fire Zoë was bent over, pulling a can of mush out of the flames.
"You know the General, sir" Zoë replied, scooping the mush into her mouth. They'd been together for nearly three months, and the bond between them had already solidified and hardened. They were a deadly duo, and many people who worked with them said that Mitchell's greatest move may have been to pair those two up. To date, they hadn't failed on a single mission they'd been sent on. And if they both would've died for each other, there's no telling what they would have done for Morgan Mitchell. Over the past three months, Malcolm had come to the conclusion that there may not have been a stronger woman in the entire galaxy. At 15, her parents had been killed, and she'd taken over their ranch and 50 cowhands, making it more prosperous than it had been before. At 16, her planet had entered the Alliance, who had promptly taken her ranch and left her with nothing. A year later, she was helping lead the war against unification. She organized their long term movements, as well as which ever battle she happened to be engaged in. She ran missions to retrieve much needed supplies from enemy camps and to rescue her fallen and captured soldiers.
Tensions between them still ran high, but recently Malcolm had started to realize there was a deeper reason for this. He held orders in his hand that he knew had originated from her tent, and for once he was going to object.
"She's crazy!" he roared, "She keeps risking herself! Doesn't she know how important she is? We lose her, we lose the war!"
"She's in charge, sir" was all Zoë could offer.
"Well, I'm not going to let her!" Mal growled. Zoë smiled inwardly as he stomped across the camp and into the General's tent.
She was getting ready for bed. The medical tent had commandeered all cots in the camp, so she was left with only a few blankets spread on the ground. Her hair was let loose of its usual braid, and in the dim lamp light it shone like silk. She stood in only her undershirt and pants, and Malcolm had to remind himself he was pissed off at her.
"What the hell is this?" he demanded, waving the paper at her.
"I suppose it's the order to go after that team we lost contact with yesterday" Morgan answered.
"It says you're leading the mission" Malcolm said.
"That's right" she replied, waiting for him to say something else.
"You can't!" Mal said fiercely. Morgan's eyes narrowed.
"Excuse me, Lieutenant?" Mal stepped closer to her.
"I'm not going to let you risk your life again. You're too important to be running risks like this" he growled quietly. She smelled good.
"I think you better rethink your position, soldier" Morgan growled back.
"I like my position just as it is" Mal replied. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, and then a strange thing happened. She kissed him. Or he kissed her. It was hard to tell. But they were holding on to each other tightly, blending their souls. Mal reached behind and flicked the lamp off. His mouth lowered to her exposed neck, and he could feel her warm breath in his ear as she whispered his name.
That night lasted a long time.
The crew was gathered in the kitchen area, with the exception of Simon who was even now joining them. Mal had been quiet the whole day. Was what she said true? Somehow, he knew that it was. He had a son. Matthew. She'd loved the name Matthew, the idea of all their names beginning with "m's." He lowered his head over his food, unable to look at anyone. He had a son. And the Alliance had him.
"Well, she's doing well" Simon announced as he took his seat, "She regained consciousness for a few seconds" Mal looked up.
"How long before she can get up, Doc?" he asked.
"She suffered severe head trauma and quite a bit of blood loss" Simon replied, "It might be a while" Mal nodded slowly. He was already trying to formulate some sort of plan, but with nothing to go on, it was proving hard.
"Who is she, Mal?" Inara suddenly asked. Conversation stopped. Everybody turned to their captain. They were all interested in that answer. Mal shot Zoë a look. Hers said he might as well tell them. Morgan certainly wouldn't let it go unknown.
"Her name's Morgan Mitchell" he said.
"Morgan Mitchell?" Inara repeated, sounding as if she didn't believe him.
"I though Morgan Mitchell was a man" Simon added.
"Surprise"
All eyes turned to the door. She stood on the top step, looking down at them. With her hair washed and what looked like Zoe's shirt on, she once again made an impressive image. Simon jumped out of his seat.
"You shouldn't be up" he said. Morgan turned her attention to him, and he flinched under it.
"The bastards I led a war against have kidnapped my son, Doctor. A little blood loss doesn't bother me" she replied coldly. Simon's mouth snapped shut and he sat back down. Mal glanced at Inara. She was staring at her plate.
Everybody else was staring at Morgan as she slowly descended the stairs. Zoë was up and handing her a cup of coffee.
"Zoë" Morgan smiled as she took it. They looked like they would've hugged, had either of them been huggers. Mal stood up and faced her. He wished this moment were a little more private. And then she surprised him. Again. She smiled cheerfully and took his seat.
"I can't believe you're still running around with this bum, Zoë, girl" she said. Zoë smiled.
"You did order me to keep an eye on him, sir" she replied.
"Yes, yes, I did" Morgan's smile faded just a bit. There was a quietness for a moment. No one knew quite what to say.
"I'm Kaylee!" Morgan smiled at the girl.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Kaylee"
"I'm Wash. Zoe's husband" The man waited for a reaction. Morgan laughed.
"Finally went out and found yourself one, eh, Zoë? Doesn't look like much"
"Looks can be deceiving, sir" Zoë replied.
"This is Jayne, Shepard Book, the Doc's name is Simon" Mal continued introducing the crew.
"This is my sister, River" Simon added, putting an arm around the girl's shoulders.
"And this" Mal finished, "is Inara" The two women locked looks for a moment. Something passed between them, and then Morgan inclined her head.
The uncomfortable silence had returned. There were questions to be asked and answered, but nobody felt it was their place.
"Well" Zoë finally said, standing and dragging Wash up with her, "I guess we'll be turning in. Captain, Sir" She nodded at Mal and Morgan as they passed. Everybody else made their excuses quickly. They disappeared and Malcolm Renyolds and Morgan Mitchell were alone.
Again.
To borrow a phrase: Firefly no mine......no money, no sue, please?
"Zoë! Did you hear about this?" Malcolm stalked up to the fire Zoë was bent over, pulling a can of mush out of the flames.
"You know the General, sir" Zoë replied, scooping the mush into her mouth. They'd been together for nearly three months, and the bond between them had already solidified and hardened. They were a deadly duo, and many people who worked with them said that Mitchell's greatest move may have been to pair those two up. To date, they hadn't failed on a single mission they'd been sent on. And if they both would've died for each other, there's no telling what they would have done for Morgan Mitchell. Over the past three months, Malcolm had come to the conclusion that there may not have been a stronger woman in the entire galaxy. At 15, her parents had been killed, and she'd taken over their ranch and 50 cowhands, making it more prosperous than it had been before. At 16, her planet had entered the Alliance, who had promptly taken her ranch and left her with nothing. A year later, she was helping lead the war against unification. She organized their long term movements, as well as which ever battle she happened to be engaged in. She ran missions to retrieve much needed supplies from enemy camps and to rescue her fallen and captured soldiers.
Tensions between them still ran high, but recently Malcolm had started to realize there was a deeper reason for this. He held orders in his hand that he knew had originated from her tent, and for once he was going to object.
"She's crazy!" he roared, "She keeps risking herself! Doesn't she know how important she is? We lose her, we lose the war!"
"She's in charge, sir" was all Zoë could offer.
"Well, I'm not going to let her!" Mal growled. Zoë smiled inwardly as he stomped across the camp and into the General's tent.
She was getting ready for bed. The medical tent had commandeered all cots in the camp, so she was left with only a few blankets spread on the ground. Her hair was let loose of its usual braid, and in the dim lamp light it shone like silk. She stood in only her undershirt and pants, and Malcolm had to remind himself he was pissed off at her.
"What the hell is this?" he demanded, waving the paper at her.
"I suppose it's the order to go after that team we lost contact with yesterday" Morgan answered.
"It says you're leading the mission" Malcolm said.
"That's right" she replied, waiting for him to say something else.
"You can't!" Mal said fiercely. Morgan's eyes narrowed.
"Excuse me, Lieutenant?" Mal stepped closer to her.
"I'm not going to let you risk your life again. You're too important to be running risks like this" he growled quietly. She smelled good.
"I think you better rethink your position, soldier" Morgan growled back.
"I like my position just as it is" Mal replied. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, and then a strange thing happened. She kissed him. Or he kissed her. It was hard to tell. But they were holding on to each other tightly, blending their souls. Mal reached behind and flicked the lamp off. His mouth lowered to her exposed neck, and he could feel her warm breath in his ear as she whispered his name.
That night lasted a long time.
The crew was gathered in the kitchen area, with the exception of Simon who was even now joining them. Mal had been quiet the whole day. Was what she said true? Somehow, he knew that it was. He had a son. Matthew. She'd loved the name Matthew, the idea of all their names beginning with "m's." He lowered his head over his food, unable to look at anyone. He had a son. And the Alliance had him.
"Well, she's doing well" Simon announced as he took his seat, "She regained consciousness for a few seconds" Mal looked up.
"How long before she can get up, Doc?" he asked.
"She suffered severe head trauma and quite a bit of blood loss" Simon replied, "It might be a while" Mal nodded slowly. He was already trying to formulate some sort of plan, but with nothing to go on, it was proving hard.
"Who is she, Mal?" Inara suddenly asked. Conversation stopped. Everybody turned to their captain. They were all interested in that answer. Mal shot Zoë a look. Hers said he might as well tell them. Morgan certainly wouldn't let it go unknown.
"Her name's Morgan Mitchell" he said.
"Morgan Mitchell?" Inara repeated, sounding as if she didn't believe him.
"I though Morgan Mitchell was a man" Simon added.
"Surprise"
All eyes turned to the door. She stood on the top step, looking down at them. With her hair washed and what looked like Zoe's shirt on, she once again made an impressive image. Simon jumped out of his seat.
"You shouldn't be up" he said. Morgan turned her attention to him, and he flinched under it.
"The bastards I led a war against have kidnapped my son, Doctor. A little blood loss doesn't bother me" she replied coldly. Simon's mouth snapped shut and he sat back down. Mal glanced at Inara. She was staring at her plate.
Everybody else was staring at Morgan as she slowly descended the stairs. Zoë was up and handing her a cup of coffee.
"Zoë" Morgan smiled as she took it. They looked like they would've hugged, had either of them been huggers. Mal stood up and faced her. He wished this moment were a little more private. And then she surprised him. Again. She smiled cheerfully and took his seat.
"I can't believe you're still running around with this bum, Zoë, girl" she said. Zoë smiled.
"You did order me to keep an eye on him, sir" she replied.
"Yes, yes, I did" Morgan's smile faded just a bit. There was a quietness for a moment. No one knew quite what to say.
"I'm Kaylee!" Morgan smiled at the girl.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Kaylee"
"I'm Wash. Zoe's husband" The man waited for a reaction. Morgan laughed.
"Finally went out and found yourself one, eh, Zoë? Doesn't look like much"
"Looks can be deceiving, sir" Zoë replied.
"This is Jayne, Shepard Book, the Doc's name is Simon" Mal continued introducing the crew.
"This is my sister, River" Simon added, putting an arm around the girl's shoulders.
"And this" Mal finished, "is Inara" The two women locked looks for a moment. Something passed between them, and then Morgan inclined her head.
The uncomfortable silence had returned. There were questions to be asked and answered, but nobody felt it was their place.
"Well" Zoë finally said, standing and dragging Wash up with her, "I guess we'll be turning in. Captain, Sir" She nodded at Mal and Morgan as they passed. Everybody else made their excuses quickly. They disappeared and Malcolm Renyolds and Morgan Mitchell were alone.
Again.