PART FOUR - THE FIRE SWAMP

The pirate continued his run up the mountain path, snipin' rifle clutched tight in his arms. It weren't his favored model, but it would do for the time bein'. When he got back to his ship-- the one hidin' over to Whitefall while the Captain pursued a personal errand, not the little transport he'd managed to wreck on this wretched planet-- Vera would be waitin', but 'til then he'd thought it best the crew didn't ask no questions. They saw him take Vera out, they'd have known somethin' was up.

He slowed at the next bend in the trail, knowin' Niska and Mal had to be close. Weren't no way the tama de hundan could've dragged Mal up here on his own, and Monty couldn't have had time to retreat far. And sure enough, there they were, like a scene from some bodice-rippin' tale: Niska had Mal tied up, propped against a rock with a knife to his throat, and in front of them a whole meal spread out, wine and apples and cheese and all sorts of other rich man's delicacies.

Roberts had no idea what the crime lord thought he was up to. Maybe if he weren't an experienced merc and tracker, he mighta gone chargin' up around the bend and got himself in the position of havin' to give up his weapon to save Mal. But from cover like this, with a long-range gun, and all Niska's bodyguards back on his Skyplex makin' like he'd never left? Weren't a power in the 'verse as could stop him.

Roberts aimed carefully and fired.

Niska slumped forward, blood drippin' on his fancy napkins. Beside him, Mal flinched-- but he were never one to let an opportunity pass him by. Soon's the knife dropped away from his throat, Mal made a grab for it. Somethin' seemed to be wrong with him though, 'cause his reactions were much too slow and he didn't manage to get hold of it. Looked like it would still be up to Roberts to cut him free.

The pirate slipped the gun strap over his shoulder and approached the makeshift table. Yep, Niska was dead; weren't no fakin' that kind of injury. He kicked the corpse away with one black boot, then picked up an apple and sliced himself off a chunk. Damn tasty. He didn't get much fresh fruit these days, even with his lucrative occupation.

"Who're you?" Mal slurred, straightenin' up a little and blinkin' at him as he ate. Looked like he was surfacing from under some kinda smoother; the longer he sat there, the more alert he got.

"The guy that's rescuin' your ass," Roberts said bluntly, then took another bite. He could wait a coupla minutes 'til Mal could move under his own power; 'til then, he might as well eat his fill.

"Don't... don't look like one of Ath's men." Mal's brow furrowed up a little at him, and the pirate fought the urge to smooth it back out with one gloved thumb.

Return him to 'Ath'! Chufei wo si le, Roberts thought irritably. "That's 'cause I'm not," he said aloud, and abandoned the food in favor of doing away with Mal's bonds.

"Ain't Alliance," Mal continued, still puzzling the matter over. "Ain't my crew. Who you kidnappin' me for?"

"You'll find out."

The last of the ropes fell away, all but the ones tied snug around Mal's wrists, and Mal staggered to his feet. "If you'll let me go, whatever kinda ransom you're lookin' for..."

"Ain't gonna take no promises from you," Roberts growled, cutting him off.

"...My fiancé's got money and connections," Mal continued doggedly, "and you're better off takin' whatever he'll give you and gettin' gone. I ain't exactly without friends, myself, neither. Hidin' behind a mask won't protect you forever."

Roberts snorted. "You think your 'dearest love' will save you?" he asked, voice full of sarcasm, as he shoved the other man toward the path. The hill sloped downward sharply not far from where they stood; down below, he could see a lot of strangely colored foliage, one of the few outcroppings of 'native' life on the planet. Somewhere nearby was an Alliance shuttle sent to meet Niska; if they couldn't get around 'em or subdue 'em right off, hidin' in a place like that might be their best bet.

Mal turned interesting colors at his taunting. He stopped in his tracks, steppin' up close into Roberts' personal space, and glared up the two or three inches that seperated 'em in height. "I never said he was my 'dearest love'," the former sergeant ground out from between clenched teeth. "But I will be rescued, one way or t'other."

"If you don't love him, then why're you marryin' him?" Roberts asked, raising his lip in a sneer.

"I learned a long time ago love weren't worth the hassle," Mal replied, coolly. "I base my decisions on somethin' a little more solid, now." He made a gesture, rubbing his fingers together; his meaning was clear.

So that was why Mal'd never come lookin', Roberts thought. He made an effort to reign in his temper, but he couldn't keep all the heat out of his voice as he replied. "Or maybe you just ain't capable of love."

Mal's eyes flashed with anger. If his hands hadn't still been tied, Roberts figured things might have got ugly; he might be bigger and stronger, but Mal weren't to be underestimated. "I died the day Jayne did," he ground out, "and don't you think you can tell me different."

Died? Roberts blinked at that, digesting the idea. He'd always thought...

A noise distracted him. Roberts looked up and saw the underside of a shuttle soaring away-- Higgins, it had to be. He wondered briefly if the other one had got there in time...

... and then there were fingers graspin' at his jacket, and his feet gettin' yanked out from under him, and gravity pullin' him down.

"Cao!" he blurted. Take your eyes off that man for one second...

"And you can die too, for all I care!" Mal yelled after the falling man.

After all these years, Jayne had finally faded to a comfortable ache in the back of his mind; he'd even managed to be happy for Zoë when she'd found a love of her own. Not that he thought Wash were good enough for her, but he'd been able to honestly tell her he wished them well. But now... all this mess with Atherton Wing had dragged the grief back to the surface, and to have this... pirate, or whatever he was, spit on it like that...

Words floated back up to him as the tumbling form slid ever closer to the tangled, alien growth at the hill's base. "If'n... you... say so..." the pirate groaned.

The blood ran cold in Mal's veins. "Laotianye," he breathed. He catalogued again in his mind's eye the shape of the man's jaw, the timbre of his voice, the breadth of his hands; his lover had bulked up some in the years since he'd seen him and acquired a whole range of new skills, but how could he not have recognized him?

He weren't dead after all.

"Jayne!" Mal yelled, and threw himself after him without a care for his own safety.

By the time he reached the bottom, he was sure he'd put half his spine out of joint, and the bruises he'd picked up were going to last for weeks. He paid that no mind, though, struggling to sit back up and find Jayne.

He spotted him a few yards away, yanking his mask off and crawling over to Mal quick as he could manage. "Yuben de shagua," he muttered, running eyes and hands over Mal's body. "What were you thinkin', jumpin' off like that with your hands tied?"

Mal chuckled softly, staring right back, gettin' an eyeful of the matured, dangerous, handsome man his Jayne had become. "Who said I was thinkin'? You're alive, Jayne. I 'spect I was actin' on instinct."

Jayne snorted and shook his head, then pulled out a knife that had managed to stay tucked in his boot during the fall. "I toldja I'd come for you," he said, voice low and intense, as he cut through Mal's bonds.

"But... you were dead. You been dead for eight years," Mal told him, still feeling a little stunned. In his world, people didn't just resurrect themselves, 'specially after all this time.

Jayne rolled his eyes. "Someone done told you 'bout the Reavers, didn't they?" he said. "You think I'd just lay down and get myself et? Me and your ma and a coupla hands locked ourselves down in the root cellar."

His ma, too? Mal swallowed. "But my letter... it done got returned. The courier told me there weren't no survivors."

"And they told us you got kilt your first tour," Jayne replied, climbing stiffly to his feet and holding a hand out for Mal. "Wasn't 'til that thing with the Valley I heard you done survived; your ma still probably thinks you're dead. I sure ain't told her. Me, I left Shadow soon's I could after we got the ranch back on its feet, lookin' to find your grave. Got myself captured right off, though, and things have been... interestin', ever since."

Jayne alive. His ma alive. Eight years wasted. Mal shook his head, then took Jayne's hand and levered himself to his feet. "So, you a mercenary now?" he asked.

"Pirate," Jayne corrected him, grinning widely. "Dread Pirate Roberts, in fact; got myself a ship called the Revenge."

Mal stared. He'd heard of the Revenge; they were near as infamous as Reavers, though they tended to hit rich Alliance targets more often than not and didn't never eat their prisoners. What prisoners they took, anyway.

"And I thought I had a reputation," he said admiringly.

Jayne chuckled. "Shoulda 'waved you a damn long time ago," he said. "Thought you wouldn't approve."

Maybe they'd both changed, Mal thought. And some of those changes would take some gettin' used to. But there'd be plenty of time to explore that later. For now, he'd just have to show how very much he'd missed him...

"Oh, no," River groaned, wrinkling her nose up. "Another kissing part."

"Someday, probably soon, you may not mind that so much," Simon told her with a smile. His meimei might be precocious in all ways academic, but she was very much a young girl still in others.

River ignored that. "The Fire Swamp part sounded interesting. They're almost there, right? Skip ahead to that."

"Well..." he drawled, then sighed dramatically. "Okay. You're sick, I'll humor you. So where were we? Ah, yes."

Moments later, voices on the path above alerted the two men to the presence of the Alliance soldiers. They'd grown tired of waiting for Niska to appear and had gone looking for him themselves. If Mal and Jayne stayed out in the open, with only one knife to hand and both battered from the long drop, they wouldn't stand a chance against them.

"We'll be safer in the Fire Swamp," Jayne said, pulling Mal after him as he ran down the last bit of slope. "They won't find us in here. Somethin' about the trees mucks up ordinary scanners."

Mal eyed the looming foliage warily. "I heard stories about this place. You sure we'll survive?"

"'Course we'll survive," Jayne declared. "Just 'cause it's got a reputation for killin' folk, don't mean it'll kill us."

"Somehow," Mal drawled, "I don't find that very reassuring."

The plant life around them was close enough to normal that the strangenesses about 'em all seemed that much more disturbing. Color just a little off true, strange textures to the bark of the trees, popping noises in the background, and very little sun making it through the leaves; Mal stuck close to Jayne as they walked, wishing they was already off this rock, or failing that, he at least had a weapon.

Jayne cleared his throat, knife in the hand that wasn't clutching at Mal's. "S'not that bad, really."

Mal stared at him in disbelief.

"Not sayin' I'd like to move here or nothin', but really, I don't know what people's so scared of."

No sooner had he finished speaking, than a loud popping sound echoed up from somewhere near their feet; both men looked down, perturbed, but it wasn't until a jet of fire shot up practically under Mal's feet that they had any idea what was causing it.

"'Course there's fire," Mal said irritably, stamping out the small flames that clung to his boots. "Wouldn't be a Fire Swamp if there weren't."

"Burn your toes, there, Mal?" Jayne guffawed.

"Aw, shut it, Jayne." He mock-glared at his companion. "If I gotta be the damsel in distress in this here rescue, shouldn't oughta come as a surprise the whole gorramn planet's against me."

"Fair 'nuff, the way you left me on Shadow like some pinin' schoolmarm," Jayne said, grinning.

Another series of pops sounded from the ground at their feet, and both men scrambled to get out of the way.

"How much further we gotta go in here, you think?" Mal wondered aloud, watching another spurt of flame shoot up from a hole in the rocky ground.

"Oh, not too far," Jayne assured him. "I crashed my ship, and Niska's is gone, but there's still at least one shuttle on this rock. We get around the next hill up there, we crawl up and find it."

"An Alliance shuttle? You crazy?" Mal blurted. "There's a base ship up there for sure."

"Got any other idea?" Jayne shrugged.

"Oh, I'll think of somethin'," Mal assured him. Or his crew would. Serenity should ought've heard he was missing by now.

-(4/5)-

tama de -- fucking
hundan -- bastard
Chufei wo si le -- Over my dead body
Cao! -- Fuck!
Laotianye -- Jesus
Yuben de shagua -- Stupid idiot
meimei -- little sister