Disclaimer: Firefly belongs to some guy called Joss, and the Doctor belongs to the BBC. Please Read and Review. Is anybody there? Does anybody care?
Serenity: Present
"I'm going to win this you know," River told him. They were playing chess, or something like it. "The concepts are simple." Her opponent rested his hands on his umbrella handle.
"Schemes and stratagems," the little man pointed out. "plots and counter-plots, tricks and maneuvers, gambits and…"
"Simple," she repeated. "rudimentary two dimensions, not complex at all. Patterns easy to see with your eyes closed."
"Can you see the patterns," he asked.
River glared at him. "My eyes are open."
"Even when they're closed?" He chuckled softly peering at her across the board.
"That's when the dreams come." She shivered slightly.
"Tell me about the dreams," he asked, the game forgotten.
"I dreamt they ate my brain, sliced it up to stuff the turkey." She met his eyes and found understanding. "I only exist because someone dreamed of me. If I pinch myself, they wake up!"
"When is a door not a door," he mumbled darkly. Suddenly a grin lit his face. "Check," he announced triumphantly.
"When is a pawn not a pawn," River answered innocently. His smile faded.
Trantor's Moon: Two Weeks Ago
Mal stared out at the horizon. Miles and miles of sand and brush covered the rolling hills from one end of the moon to the other. No one ever came out here. Behind him he could hear Jayne grunt as he loaded the crates onto the mule. Things were going well, sort of, but something felt wrong, had done since Artaris. That boat was a mystery just left abandoned to drift in the black for no reason. The box itself was a mystery, a solid cube. Jayne had tried to blast it open, but no luck. Still that shouldn't have been a problem. They had done the job and been paid. That was the end of the story, or it should have been. Now there were rumors circling the docks. Rumors of a little man in a silly hat searching for Serenity and Mal couldn't shake the feeling that it was because of the Artaris job.
Suddenly, he heard a noise like feet scrapping gravel. There was someone behind him. He spun around, drawing his gun in a single motion. Sure enough, there he was, the little man complete with the funny hat. Despite the gun pointing at him, the man didn't flinch.
"Who in the hell are you," Mal asked.
"I'm the Doctor, and you're the man who stole my cargo."
"Could be, stole a lot of men's cargo."
"You'd remember mine. Small box without hinges, key or lid. You had to board a wreck to find it," the Doctor said.
"Who's this, sir?" Zoe was standing behind him, her gun drawn.
"Says he's a Doctor."
"Yes, so why don't we put the guns away and have a nice non-violent conversation?"
"Nothing to chat about," Mal said. "We ain't got your box no more."
"No," the Doctor agreed. "but I'm prepared to pay you to help me steal it back." He grinned.