Exchanging Words – 10

Kaylee, Mal and Monty followed the stretcher bearing an unusually silent Jayne. The mist shrouding the world felt thick, like a stream they were wading through. Fess waited at the entrance of the palace with the doctor and several women. The focused lighting hit Kaylee like a hammer between the eyes. She shuddered to a stop, her feet not willing to go further.

Mal put his hands on her shoulders, drawing her gaze. He'd used Jayne to get her out of the mule, used him to get her feet moving across the garden, was gonna use him again to get her inside: safe. "Gotta get Jayne in to see the doc."

Kaylee's voice was hard as the sculptures in the garden. "We did the job. We get paid. We go back to Serenity. That's how it works."

Captain didn't budge, raised his eyebrows at her.

Kaylee crossed her arms. Her hair was plastered to her head. She was damp clear through and breathless with shivering but insisted, "I can go myself. Come back for you in the morning."

"Just leave Jayne?" Mal knew he was pushing too hard, softened his voice, and tried reasoning. "No one's going anywhere. Wouldn't send Jayne loaded with Vera and armor to the docks this time of night. Not about to wander about down there either. I'm wet, cold and hungry, not standing out here arguing no more about it."

"Fine." She snatched her elbow from his hold, marched down the steps like she was queen of all Londinium and didn't need no gorram shiny hat. Mal followed, wondering where she found the energy to glare at him.

"Fess?" Kaylee, hands on her hips, nodded at Mal with her chin. "Captain Reynolds is hungry and cold. Can you send some warm food to his – our – the suite?"

"Yes Miz Kaylee." Fess bustled away through the kitchen door. Retreat was wise, Mal thought.

"There, see how easy that was." She rounded on Mal, smiling like she might ask him if he'd like his bowels recalibrated before his coffee or after. Flushing with anger or embarrassment - Mal wasn't certain - Kaylee whirled away. Stalking down the corridor, she waved her hands as if she muttering curses on the heads of all men.

Mal watched her, till she went around the corner, Fess chasing after her with a rolling cart. He hoped she was angry enough to get all the way to the suite. Mal told himself Kaylee just needed a few minutes to herself, that's why she pushed him away with her anger…. It would go away, soon enough. She was just hurting, had nothing to do with him failing to keep her safe. Kaylee was just mad cause he was bossing her about, wouldn't let her go to the ship like she wanted.

Mal turned toward the dining room where King Feron rested on what looked like a fancy throne with his foot propped on the stool and cushion. His face was swollen and purple with bruising. The stitching on his cheek would be a legendary scar when he healed. No doubt with tales of how many jumped him and how he fought 'em all off protecting his little scrap kingdom.

Feron adjusted his leg and said to Mal. "Shoulda put Ty down when he first went nuts. Saved him and us all the misery."

Mal narrowed his eyes at the wounded man, "Can't truly draw the line for another. You believe they'll find a way to walk through it till they prove different. Were enough decent folks put down in the war to litter hell and then some." Mal shook his head, pointless to try and tell this man how to run his kingdom. He straightened his tired spine and asked Feron what he really needed to know, "You two finish your bartering?"

"Deals done. Coin is in your suite. Parts will be on your ship before noon tomorrow." Feron winced, talking hurt. "Good enough?"

"Hospitality left something to be desired, but overall, good enough." Mal turned to go, but Feron gripped his forearm.

The grip of a sergeant who gave orders to men till there weren't no men to give 'em to, made Mal pause. "Don't lay down arms, Malcolm. Gal's worth ten times her weight in scrap."

"I'll thank you to stay out of my business." Mal sneered and peeled Feron's hand away.

Fed up with the illusions of benevolent tyranny, Mal sought after Kaylee.

--oooo—

Monty was perched on a chair, a plate of food on his lap, cup and saucer in his hand, manfully enduring torture. Mal eased the coat from his shoulders and tossed it over a chair.

"Sit down, Cap'n. Fess has enough food here for an army." Kaylee waved at the table, her smile stretched tight across her face. "Contract is there, with the coin. I'm gonna go … clean up."

She closed the bathroom door before Mal could say a word.

Monty's cup rattled when he placed it on the low table. Put the plate next to it and threw his napkin on the pile. Cleared his throat and reported like it was the old days, "Jayne's fine. Bullet went creasing by. Oughter be a pretty scar and a real interesting story to tell, when he gets over his wounded pride. He's gonna sit awkward for a few days."

Heaving his coat over his shoulders, Monty ached to spit. Instead, he sighed and swallowed words Mal most likely didn't need and surely wouldn't want. Gravel voiced, he said, "I'll take my two percent and quit. Shoulda just let the gorram wreck drift."

"You do have a gift for dramatics." Mal snorted at Monty's puckered mouth and reminded him, "We all profited. No call to blame yourself over a few inconveniences."

Mal couldn't focus on the papers he'd picked up. Just tried to read the bottom line and do the math. He could hear the water running, splashing as she got in, then silence. She'd sung last night, was it just last nigh? Silly words with a childish tune. Sweet sound, her voice, humming through him, drawing the tender to the surface, then the heat. Sang with her, he did. Laughed and enjoyed the novelty of sharing more'n a quip or a mealtime guffaw till the meal ached pleasurably in his stomach. Playing till the heat transformed to energy and surged through them both. Water steaming from them like a skillet put on the heat fresh from the sink.

Monty paced around the room, glancing toward the door, embarrassed by the action. He shook his head and planted his feet facing Mal. "I ain't got the stomach for that kinda hurt no more."

Mal counted out Monty's share and dropped it in the large man's paw. "Go on then. Job's done. I'm obliged for your help, no need for more."

Monty clutched the coins and stuffed them in his pocket. "You got that kinda courage anymore? Like when we were young? Risking it all for a maybe in this 'verse?"

Gazing at the bathroom door, listening to the silence, Mal wanted to agree with Monty. But, Mal wouldn't or couldn't. Shook his head and said, "Better to be on the right side of the loosing cause than the wrong side and claim to have won. Remember knowing that Monty? Knowing it all the way through?"

The burly man nodded, "I do."

"We're a mite bruised. Bruises heal." Mal made his eyes focus on Monty instead of that gorram door so firmly shut. "Woulda ya rather have sat home on the porch and ignored the maybe? Let it all go without putting up a fight?"

Monty snorted, "Reckon not."

Mal nodded, "Reckon maybe's worth a bruise or two. Having profit come along with it don't hurt none either."

Monty laughed and took Mal's hand. "Watch out for them devil women, Monty."

"I'm always watchin, Mal. Fly careful." Monty slapped him on the back and jingled the coins in his pocket as he left.

Mal sat down cause his legs wouldn't hold him up no more. He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. Nearly prayed. That scared him more'n facing the entire Alliance. He couldn't ask for mercy from some deity that had abandon folks who gave their all, left him with a life but nothing other than his own self to hold on to. Couldn't ignore the desire for mercy either. First time in a long gorram time he'd actually thought on it, wanted it. Dropping his hands from his face, he folded them together, not praying, just a word to anyone who might happen to hear or respond. Maybe….

"Please."

The next breath didn't burn like acid boiling in his lungs. Mal thought that was enough.

--oooo—

Her head was draped across his lap, three blankets over her and she was still as death in her sleep. Mal had turned the heat up before she got out of the bath. She drug herself from the bathroom, wearing his shirt and hauling every blanket from the bedroom with her. She dropped onto the sofa next to him, the pile of blankets not close enough to do her any good, and flopped over on him. Not a word or a look just exhausted sleep.

He'd held on to her, damp and sweet, for considerable time. Settling her against his legs so he could cover her better when the shivering rattled her so bad. She slept, her hand curled across his knee, other hand tucked under her, somewhere. Her hair was nearly dry, waving across a bright green cover like copper that'd been shined. Mal kept one hand on her shoulder but the other twirled the strands of her hair and was grateful.

The gasp startled him. She'd been still and peaceful, no thrashing or tension. But suddenly, she was awake. He could feel the awareness of where she was creep over her. Mal rubbed her back, sad when she sat up straight, drawing away from him.

Shoving hair from her face, she glanced around the room, yawned and asked, "Monty go?"

"Yes." Mal tucked the covers around her shoulders, sitting back when she stiffened.

"Jayne?" She rubbed her face, trying to wake up.

"He's fine." Mal grinned, couldn't help it.

Kaylee grinned back, "Gonna live on this story for some time. How I shot Jayne in the ass. Might even get famous."

Mal stretched his legs out beside her on the sofa and she squirmed around to make room for him. Slouching down, he held out his arm but she shook her head.

"Just give me some time to wake up." She softened her distance with a smile.

"Thought we might just sleep a bit more. It is the middle of the night… I think." Mal frowned, not at all sure what time it was.

Kaylee put her hand on his bended knee and leaned on it. Mal felt relief warm him, not even aware he needed her touch – thought she was supposed to need his.

"I am sorry I shot him." She said. "You reckon Jayne'll forgive me once I finish tormentin him?"

Mal nodded. He'd heard her talking to the dead man. Could guess at the way things got twisted in her heart with dark, death and guns waving about. Jayne wasn't an idiot. He'd figured it out. Man kept looking across his shoulder, watching Kaylee the whole way back, squinting in the dark with concern more'n pain. Mal figured the two of 'em would milk the squabbling and mockery for a good month or more and was looking forward to egging it on at every opportunity. Things that scared ya didn't hold no power if you found the humor in 'em.

"Wanna tell me bout it?" He inched a bit so he could touch her cheek with his fingers. Just a flutter cross her face, just a touch, stolen cause he couldn't not.

She grinned, devil woman grin that made his breath seize up. "Not really. Maybe later. Don't gotta tell ya every little thought."

"That's not what my Captain Dummy Book said." Mal watched the blush gobble up her grin, admired the way she could shift from mood to mood so openly. He wanted more of that, "As I recall, you said you felt like ya just had to tell me every little thing – but thank god that Wash talked so much you couldn't."

Kaylee slapped his knee and flounced on his chest. "You weren't supposed to have read all that stupid stuff at the beginning. I crossed it out!"

"Folks naturally wanna read the crossed out stuff even more." Easing his arm around her shoulder, slow, waiting to see if she'd go stiff again, Mal battled the urge to bury himself in her. "Noticed also that you got right put out with me, often. Then I noticed you stopped writing bout me altogether - except to tell me what to do."

Her sigh gave him courage and his hand found her face. She leaned into his palm, kissed it gentle and then squirmed to get comfortable. "Quit writing silliness when I gave up you ever seein me as anything but another part of Serenity. Decided that was special enough. The book was supposed to be for you, not me. Didn't figure ya needed all the other stuff."

"Wouldn't have nothing to do with the doc comin aboard?" Mal teased her hair.

"Gave up fore that." She propped her chin on the hand resting across his chest. Her gaze was mirthful, "Course, if'n ya want to be jealous, I wouldn't mind reassuring you."

"When you don't got such a desire to forget the day, won't mind takin ya up on that." Mal thumbed the shadows under her eyes. Brushing the tips of her lashes that felt like kisses on his thumb.

"Not about forgettin." Kaylee said, "Bout letting it go. Can't fix it, can't change the sadness that's sittin in me for him. Best to just let it be until it's not so sore."

Mal did squeeze her then. His arms had a heart of their own, couldn't ignore such an empty sound in her voice and the flash of ache across her face. She flinched when he shifted, put her face across his chest and hugged him back. Not stiff as before, but more to soothe him than herself.

"Can we go home tomorrow?" She whispered against him

"Don't wanna visit with the folks? Might not be back for quite some time." Mal nuzzled her head with his chin.

"Visiting is nice." Kaylee agreed, "But I just wanna go home. Put that regulator on the atmo panel, change out that board that's always frying the kitchen lights, get-"

"You wanna play with your new toys." Mal laughed, knowing the joke for the lie it was.

"I do." She smiled, grateful.

"And am I gonna have to chase ya down in the engine room just to get a kiss?" He nudged her chin, his smile dimmed when he saw the tears drowning her eyes. "Sh, Kaylee, s'okay."

She nodded, couldn't find her smile but tried, "You might have to hide cause I'll be huntin you."

"To kiss me or tell me every little detail of repairs?" He drew her closer, felt her legs restless against him, trying to lever away, carry the hurt beyond his reach.

"I can do both at the same time, have natural talent ya know." She twisted, pushed against the squishy cushions beneath them. "Let me go, Mal. Please."

He kissed her head, whispering. "We don't hide away one from the other. Please."

"Not hidin. Just don't need-"

"I need to hold you." He ran his foot along the back of her leg, flopping it across to hug both her legs.

She nodded and stilled, sucking air in little sips between her teeth, trying to regain control of her feelings. A tiny chuckle escaped and she said, "It's funny. Blubbered all over … him and thought I was done with it. But it just comes up in me, like I remember I'm here, you're here and it feels wonderful but…"

"But it shouldn't." Mal asked.

"I understand looking all those years – breaking inside so's ya can't not look. The powerful need for someone." She whispered, fingers restless at his side. "But … I wouldn't want you to – I'd want ya to fight with Jayne or maybe get in the middle of Wash and Zoe squabbling and stir it up a bit. Laugh at River unraveling the kitchen cans. I'd want ya to laugh and smile. Find someone else to love and hold."

"How come every time I turn around you're talking about dying? Woman, I'm getting might sick of that topic." Mal growled in his chest, more'n half mocking her.

"Possible it's the line of work we's in." She grinned.

"You wound me, Kaylee-girl. Wound me to my core!"

She gazed up at him, smirkin, "I'll cross that out too."

His laughter helped her smile to reappear. She traced the lines about his eyes, newer ones – a few she claimed for her own – that had grooved evidence that life in the black wasn't what most thought it was. There were good times in the work, laughter in the surviving and more'n death to think on. Folks living in the world struggled just the same, found love and laughter as they did, but Kaylee couldn't imagine having her boots permanent on the ground and not a deck. Not yet… maybe not ever.

"You'll take us home tomorrow?" She continued to caress his face, shuddering when his lips swept her palm.

"You just wanna get there fore item number two does." He felt her jolt of shock and reveled in it. "I may not be cunning as you when it comes to bartering, but I can read a list, Kaylee."

She shrugged, "Not trying to hide nothing. Got a good deal on it and will give pleasure to Wash and Zoe. They've been wanting it forever and a couple days."

"Uh huh." Mal didn't sound convinced.

"Didn't answer my question." She teased. "You trying to distract me?"

"Is it working?"

"Somewhat." When she wrestled and rolled from him, he let her go. Her bottom landed on the floor and her giggle wasn't near as energetic as she tried to make it. She plucked at the blanket that had tumbled with her and said, "It is nice here and King Feron feeds ya splendid stuff and Fess makes good coffee and the bath tub well, it's probably sinful… and… uh, the company is the best kind."

Mal rolled to his side, cupped her face with his hand and promised, "I'll take ya home tomorrow."

Her smile baked itself into his memory. A scorching sun of delight he wouldn't have been willing to miss.

--oooo--