NOTES: Thanks to everyone who sent feedback for Part One - it was lovely to know that people were intrigued by the story. For those who didn't quite catch on in the first part, this is a cross-breed: SG-1 characters in the Firefly 'verse but with some constants remaining the same. Can anyone imagine Jack not in charge of his team?

Cheyenne
Part Two

Simon worked at getting a tourniquet on the bleeding woman. There wasn't much else he could do without the tools of his trade. He didn't even have a basic medkit - the hardware store in which they were taking shelter didn't seem to have one. From the flow of blood, he guessed that she'd been hit in the femoral artery and would need surgery that he couldn't give her now.

Thankfully, she was also unconscious on the makeshift pallet that Wash and the blonde woman had put together to drag her inside when the firing first began.

"You know," Wash said from over by the window where he was keeping an eye on the situation outside and filling up gun cartridges, "I thought today was going to be a quiet day. Get out, take some sun, breathe some air, buy Zoë something slinky and without too much material, go back and head back out again. But, no, now it's all guns and shootouts and how to make your own bombs."

The woman kneeling over a series of glass jars and assorted open packets of bits and pieces looked up at his comment, her eyes large and blue, even in the dim light of the store. "Distraction purposes," she said, matter-of-factly, then turned to Kaylee who was carefully mixing together the bits and pieces that the woman had specified. "Careful. Don't put too much gas in the jars."

"Damage purposes," Wash returned. "Although, I'm not opposed to large quantities of damage in situations like this. Just as long as the damage happens to other people."

"Did you speak with the Captain?" Simon asked, sitting back on his haunches and wiping his forehead. He'd already seen to four wounded - three more shot wounds and a gash on a child of ten who'd been dragged around the corner of a building by her mother and caught her arm on a loose nail. There wasn't much he could do - no antiseptics, no painkillers - nothing.

"Couldn't get him on the radio. Got Book, who said he'd head out and look for them."

"Never mind," said the blonde woman, tipping a few drops of liquid into one of the jars. "We've got cavalry coming."

Simon had listened to the conversation from this end. It was interesting listening to the woman address the person on the other end as 'sir' - reminiscent of Zoë and the Captain. He'd seen the odd look on Wash's face as the blonde communicated with her 'cavalry' and it didn't take much interpretation. He was worried about his wife.

Of course, given that his wife was in trouble more often than not, usually right alongside Mal, Simon could understand Wash being worried about Zoë.

Right now, they had other worries.

There was a clatter from the back door of the store, startling them. Wash had his gun out and pointed at the door before he saw who it was.

People scuttled in and were pointed towards the back room of the hardware store where the owner and a lot of other people were presently cowering. Simon had sent River with them, out of harm's way. She was better after Ariel, more stable, but he still worried.

Especially in situations like these.

The last one to come in was a young man who'd volunteered to go out and fetch some items that Simon and the blonde had wanted.

He lugged in the makeshift sack he'd created from a couple of yards of linen and set it down on the floor. In the depths of the material, things clinked gently. The young man hauled out a bottle and handed it to Simon. "Alcohol - it's nearly rotgut." He began unpacking the other bits and pieces and tossed a box over to the blonde. "I found pins and thread. No string."

"Cotton?"

"I think."

"What were you going to do with them?" Kaylee asked, curious.

"Explosions."

Simon looked up from the wound he'd been about to start cleaning. "River, you should be back in the--"

River wasn't looking at him. She was looking at the blonde, meditatively. "Fire in the soul, boiling up like steam, wanting out. The glass shatters and breaks, spilling pain. Like lightning."

It wasn't as disturbing as some of the stuff she'd said in the past, but it wasn't exactly the kind of thing that Simon wanted outsiders to hear and notice. And the blonde woman was looking at River with a startled expression that wasn't quite recognition but which was closer to it than Simon liked.

He opened his mouth to say something and draw the attention away from his sister.

Wash beat him to it. "Poetic," the pilot noted. "Now can we get past the crazy talk to the part where we do something about the men walking towards this building? Because they're definitely coming this way and they definitely don't look happy." He peeked over the window ledge, then flung himself down. "Wode tìan!"

That was all the warning Simon needed. He lunged for River, hauling her down to the floor a second before a hail of bullets flew through the windows, spattering shards of glass through the single-roomed shop.

Amidst the screams of the people in the back and the sharp sounds of scraping glass, Simon could hear someone bellowing something from outside. The words weren't distinguishable so Simon didn't bother listening.

The blonde raised herself up from the floor and jerked her head at the window. "Jonas, can you hold them off for a bit? Outside walls are brick construction. They'll hold for a couple more rounds yet." Jonas gave her a look - probably implying that she was insane - and she held up one of the glass jars. "I need you to cover for me enough so I have time to throw at least one of these."

"What? Just one?" Wash asked, grabbing for the gun.

"One of this kind will be enough," said the blonde. "The ones your friend was making are smaller."

"Actually, I don't get why we need them at all." At the look she turned on him, Wash shrugged. "I'm a pilot. Not a...bomb-maker."

The woman flashed a quick grin. "It's a hobby," she said, "And I don't see anything to fly around here. Jonas, how many are there?"

"Seven of them coming towards us," Jonas reported. The muzzle of his gun slipped over the lip of the window and he fired off four shots. "Six now. A dozen more beyond."

Another hail of bullets began spattering across the front of the shop. "What do they want?" Simon asked, keeping River down on the floor. It was more difficult than he liked; she was trying to get away.

"Whatever it is, they're willing to shoot up an entire township to get it," said Wash. He fired off a couple of rounds then ducked again. The thud of bullets smacking into the outside brickwork resounded through the store. "Us, too."

"Goods changed hands," River said, picking herself up from the floor. "Only forgeries. Not the things that were promised. And he promised a pound of flesh."

Simon shushed her. The blonde was watching again - and when she looked at Simon he felt as though he was being measured. To cover the feeling - and distract from River - he asked, "How far away was your 'cavalry' when you spoke with them?"

"Fifteen out," she said briskly as she carefully opened a packet of crystals and dropped a few into the jar. "Can you keep them busy for a few minutes more?"

"Sam..."

She was already directing Kaylee to collect the jars, and River squirmed out from under him. "I'll help!"

He grabbed for her wrist, but she'd already eluded him. "River!"

"Get your patient out to the back room with the others," said the woman. "Make sure they're in the corner farthest from the door - as many of them right up against the pillars of the house, okay?"

Simon stared at her and the jar in her hand. "What does it do?"

Her smile was slight. "A lot of damage."

The understated air with which she spoke said as much - and a whole lot more. Simon knelt down beside his patient, checking the tourniquet. He'd have to let it loose in a few minutes so a little blood could run through the leg. He did it now, keeping a careful eye on River and Kaylee as they co-opted trays in which to carry the jars under the direction of the woman.

"Sam!" Jonas called from the front of the store, "They're approaching!"

She swore pithily. "Hold them back for one more minute!"

"I don't know if I can!"

"Try!" Kaylee and River were directed to Simon. "Help him move the patient and get into the back room. I'm headed out the back," she said.

"Sam..."

One edge of her jacket was flipped back to show the gun in her arm holster. "Trust me. And get away from the windows first chance you get."

"Be careful!"

She probably didn't even hear him as she ran across the floor in a controlled crouch, long legs and an athlete's body. During a break in the firing, she ducked out the back door, closing it quietly behind her.

"So," Wash said as the firing started up again. "Is she usually like that?"

Jonas snorted and fired off another couple of rounds before scrabbling for the refill. "Usually, yeah. Why?"

"Oh, she just reminds me of my wife. She's got that whole 'scary' thing going."

The other man grinned.

Simon tied the tourniquet tight around the woman's leg. "Wash, I'll need help to pull her over to the backroom."

"Right. Will you be okay here?" Wash asked the other man. "I mean, people shooting, bullets everywhere..."

The other man grinned as he pocketed a box of ammunition and crawled over to grab Wash's gun, indicating the woman on the pallet. "Sam said to get away from the windows."

"Oh, yeah. That bomb thing." Wash crouched down by Simon. "Ready?"

In the back room, the air was rank with the crowded scents of nearly two-dozen bodies. Most were already huddled up against the back wall in fear for their lives, those that weren't were asking questions that neither Wash nor Simon could answer.. The woman was laid beneath a sturdy wooden table, still unconscious, and there was time for him to press up beside Kaylee and River, with Wash and Jonas crouching mere feet away.

"So," Wash said as they waited, "when can we expect the explosion to happen?"

Jonas shrugged, even as River lifted her face from Kaylee's shoulder. "Now," she whispered.

A second later the earth trembled and the air rocked with shockwaves as the explosion Sam had promised, happened.

--

TBC