Something was up, he just couldn't figure what. River had been pretty adamant that Waller had been hiding something. Which yeah, of course she was. The woman lied for a living. He figured it would come out eventually. In his experience, nothing stayed secret for long, especially in a fight. Violence tended to stress people, well semi-normal people anyway. And when regular folks got stressed the truth had a way of emerging. Unfortunately that wasn't always a good thing.

When it did…none of them were prepared.

Riddick had snagged Floyd to give him a hand rummaging through the shuttle. GQ and Leila were patching into the comms to update Ops on the situation since wave reception had gotten spotty. Everyone was getting a little low on ammunition and the shuttle would have a supply.

"Ho, jackpot," Floyd called. "Got the ammo supply."

"Yeah?" Riddick had found a couple more knives to supplement his shivs.

"Yeah…" The assassin sounded preoccupied. Riddick pushed past a half-crushed bulkhead and found the man pulling a binder marked 'Top-Secret' out of a briefcase. "Think this might be helpful?"

"River's been saying that Waller's hiding something," Riddick agreed. He smirked at the assassin. "Why don't we find out what?"

The binder made a very satisfying explosion of paperwork next to Flag's head. Riddick growled furiously as he and Deadshot stalked up to the Alliance officer. "You tell everyone," Floyd demanded.

"Everything," Riddick added with a menacing snarl. "Or you and me, we'll go right now." He could feel the Wrath pulsing in his chest ready to tear this mùzhōngwúrén gǒushǐ duī to pieces and piss on the remains."

River's head snapped around to stare at the Colonel; Riddick guessed Flag's thoughts had been loud enough to get her attention, "Dào dé shuāng shǒu de liǎng gè miàn duì lǘ zi." She drew her sword with a furious curse and moved towards Flag.

Katana's blade came between River's and Flag, more's the pity. Although the fight between the two women was a thing of beauty, he could admit that objectively enough. Katana had no small amount of skill, and experience, pressing every time. But for pure talent River had her beat, countering each strike effortlessly, a cold smile on her face.

Riddick glanced at the rest of the Squad and the Purplebellies. It was a mark of how effective Mal had been as a leader to them that none of the Purplebellies tried to intervene. To their minds, Mal had kept them alive through all of this, with few losses, and while they might obey Flag if given a direct order, without one, they wouldn't go against Malcolm Reynolds.

As it was, everyone's attention, including Flag's, had fixed upon the sword fight between the women. A fight River seemed on the verge of winning. "Much as I'd love for River to beat the woman's pì gu, we do have other things to do," Riddick reminded Mal.

"Flag," Mal got the Colonel's attention, though the Browncoat's tone held a pretty hefty amount of displeasure. "You an' me, we grab Katana. Rick, you an' Floyd get River."

Easier said than done but Riddick managed it by waiting until River pivoted with her back to him and wrapped an arm around her waist while Floyd grabbed her wrist. Mal and Flag had a harder time with Katana but eventually they got the women separated.

"River, we've got a job to do," Riddick reminded his partner, quieting his tone and forcing the Wrath back along with his anger. Deep breaths, control, time and place for everything. If he lost it she'd likely be right behind him.

"We do," River stared at Flag. "And it just got twice as hard. Liú kǒu shuǐ de biǎo zi hé hóu zi de bèn ér zi."

"How d'you mean," Harkness, not being a Reader, was in the dark along with the rest of the Squad and Purplebellies.

"The Enchantress isn't the only trouble," River spat the words at the Colonel. "There's another meta-human, with powers similar to hers." She threw her hands in the air, "Knew you were hiding something. Didn't think you'd be this tā mā de stupid. Jiào nǐ shēng háizi méi pìgu yǎn."

Riddick kept his hands around River's waist, in part to keep her from attacking Flag again, partially to keep from doing the same thing himself as the Alliance stooge began to speak, finally coming clean. "Three days ago, a non-human entity appeared in the rail station here." He paused, "So Waller sent me and a woman with incredible abilities. A witch. Waller…Waller had her heart, kept it in a case, near her at all times. So that way she had leverage on the witch. If her heart died, so did she." He shook his head, "See, nobody could get near this thing, but... The witch could." River shook her head as he continued, "Needless to say the whole thing was a bad idea. And that's how she escaped from Waller." He looked at all of them, "So now you know."

"And if they got Waller, they got the Witch's heart too," Mal concluded grimly.

"And he knew this all along?" Harley stared at Flag in disgust. "Knowin' we're gettin' sent in to deal with the Enchantress? And he didn't think to mention there's two of 'em?"

"Yes," River nodded. "He's been careful. Not thinking about it. So I couldn't Read it out of his thoughts."

"Because that's a genius idea," Riddick scowled. "More of Waller's gǒu pì no doubt. And you don't have enough spine to speak up against orders. Bèn tiānshēng de yī duī ròu."

"Well…you can just shoot me right now," Floyd shook his head and gestured at a nearby bar. "But I'm getting a drink."

"Best idea I've heard in hours," Mal agreed. "Anybody else want a drink?" Seemed like most everyone did. Two of the Purplebellies played a round of rock paper scissors to see who got stuck with guard duty on the door but the rest of them all crowded into the bar. Even Katana had shaken her head in disgust with Flag and joined them, leaving Flag standing in the rain outside.

Harley had decided to play bartender, and Mal was acting as her willing assistant, maybe because Harley had batted her eyes and said please. But Riddick figured mostly due to Mal wanting to look people in the eye instead of down the bar when he spoke to them. Seemed like the type of thing Mal'd think about.

"Feels like we need some help," Mal admitted.

"More like we need a miracle," Floyd agreed. He glanced at Riddick and River, sitting at the end of the bar closest to the door. "You still think 'Big Damn Heroes' is our best bet?"

"Nobody else can deal with this," River sighed. "She remains convinced it is right but… cannot blame anyone for doubting. Does not wish to compel anyone, but it cannot be done with the Purplebellies alone."

Riddick gave her a sharp look and Mal's eyes snapped to her face. "River," Mal handed Leila a beer before he moved down the bar to look at his daughter. "This getting to you?"

"Some," River admitted, rubbing her temples. "Lots of influx, high emotions…"

"Need to anchor?" Riddick kept his voice low. "How bad is it? Like that first time or not as much pain?"

"She does," She must really be feeling it to admit she needed help that quickly. "The pain is…" She wasn't moaning with it, but he'd never met anyone with as much self-discipline as this woman. That she'd let him see the amount of pain she'd been in that first time he'd acted as her anchor had been a huge gesture of trust he hadn't fully understood back then.

"Been pushing it off," Mal muttered. "Trying to deal with all of it on her own."

"How long d'you need," He rubbed a hand up and down her spine, feeling the minute trembling of her body. "How bad is the pain?"

"Thirty minutes?" River hedged, an attempt at a conservative estimate, he could tell from how her voice sounded. She didn't smell like her brain was on fire yet at least. He'd made her promise him after that first time that she'd tell him before she ever got to that point again. A promise she'd kept.

"What's wrong Shorty?" Waylon rumbled the question and drew Chato's attention. Riddick watched as the two of them made their way down the bar to stand on either side of he and River.

"She needs to anchor herself," Mal explained quietly. "At least half an hour, more if we can manage it."

Riddick didn't growl at the other two, though he did hold River a bit closer, pressing her spine to his chest, his hand under hers. Damned if he completely understood what it was that ignited his blood when it came to her, but it had become a fact of life. Chato leaned forward, his hand covering River's and Waylon took her free hand.

And River gasped in shock.

Fire, Heat, Warmth… once she might have thought all were the same, little differentiation between terms, simply a matter of degree. Once she could have ignored any such distinctions as no concern, having little to no bearing upon events set to unfold.

She had been terribly, stupidly, wonderfully wrong. The Fire of Chato's rage, that dark part of him that spawned hellfire, feeding on his rage and the rage feeding on the fire, a vicious circle. A continuous inferno always threatening to blaze out of control.

The Heat of Riddick's desire for her, filling her in ways she could never have imagined, tingling and tantalizing. A endless well of lust and beyond, a deep affection and desire for more and more of everything he found with her. And underlying all of it, the Wrath, spirit energy. Pure, light, fueling all the unfamiliar, and yet still welcome, feelings he had for her; the woman who accepted him without reservation.

Warmth…simple, so commonplace, taken for granted, easy and comforting, the Warmth of Waylon's scaled skin and huge form. So easy to mistake for something less than it was. Warmth like bathwater, like a sunny river, flowing and filled with life. The warmth of a pond in summer, green grass and trees with the sun filtering through in long fingers of light. Simple and pure.

She braced, instinctively, for pain, shock or dismay, for one of them to pull away, leave her unbalanced, or worse, overtake her mind until she'd been shunted aside, lost in herself.

Deep breath. Slow. Steady. Inhale on a three count…hold it…exhale on another three count… Repeat.

Riddick's voice, low growl of disquiet, hard body against her back, thick arm 'round her waist, hand spread over her ribs. His forehead pressed to her crown, breathing with her.

Chato…quiet concern. Remembering how she'd help him control the flames. Hoping he wasn't making things worse. Recalling the serenity she'd brought him once before.

Waylon, warm huffs of breath, patiently watching, feeling her in his mind and basking in the sensation of comfort. One of the few times in his life he was un-alone.

She didn't need to speak aloud, wasn't sure if she had or if they simply heard her, "We are linked."

"Yeah," Riddick's matter-of-fact agreement suggested he'd figured that much out on his own. Waylon and Chato weren't as blasé about it but they weren't surprised either, though neither of them bothered to vocalize their lack of shock or realization.

"Ace in the hole," River smirked mentally and showed the trio of males her thoughts.

"What've we got to lose," Waylon agreed.

"Not like we had much in the first place," Chato shrugged mentally.

"What's the old saying, 'If you give me a lever and a place to stand, I can move the world'." Riddick's chuckle echoed through their minds.

"Then we are agreed?"

"Yeah. Might be the only way." The men concurred and River opened her eyes.

"Then we have a plan."

He didn't care for the way Riddick's arms were wrapped around River, holding her upright against his chest. Chato and Waylon holding her hands came across as a bit odd but then River's eyes opened, and he swore they glowed blue and red-gold and green against those dark pupils.

It last all of two minutes, River breathing deeply, all four of them frozen as if they'd stuck in one place. Riddick moved first, his arm tightening around River's waist, forehead pressed to the crown of her skull. The full length of her body held back against his. A low thrum seemed to fill the air around him. Them. Whatever.

Waylon's hand flexed around River's and he straightened from his half slouch as if mentally admonished to stand straight. Something that might have been a rumbling purr vibrating his throat, if crocodiles purred…Mal really didn't know about that.

And Chato… His eyes opened and stared straight at Mal, fire burning in their depths while he inhaled and exhaled. He looked like nothing more than a fire breathing dragon taken human form, straight out of the old fairy tales. And dragons hadn't ever been considered the friendliest of creatures.

For thirty seconds it felt as if the whole 'Verse held its breath.

Until River relaxed back against Riddick, Chato blinked and Waylon leaned back with a shrug.

"Uh…'Tross…" Mal couldn't be exactly certain but he thought this was a little more unusual than River's 'normal' anchoring to someone when she was in need.

"Hmm… yes Cap'n Daddy?" Oh yeah, she'd anchored herself to Riddick most likely. She only got that half-there half-not tone when she was anchored or doing a really deep Read of someone. But this time, her voice held a deep thrumming power.

"Everything all right?"

"Silly question," River sighed. "Please give us…at least…half an hour…for…"

"Anchor, right, got it," Mal nodded. They were getting some curious looks from the Purplebellies, though most of them had seen River talking with the men earlier or heard tell of it from their fellows. Well a drink would take some time, hopefully enough that River's brain would be back to an even keel. "GQ, get you a beer?"

"Yeah," The head of Alpha squad nodded. "Anything stronger and we could be compromised." He slid beers down to his men while Bryan did the same with his.

"Waylon," Mal tilted his head as Killer Croc leaned back against the wall and casually hit the music player so it started up with a quietly catchy tune. "Something to drink? End of the world, no better time for it," He grinned at the huge meta.

The grin he got in return might have been terrifying if he hadn't fought alongside the man, "Beer." He agreed.

"There he is," Harley slid a beer down to him and looked at Chato, "How about you, hot stuff?"

"Water," El Diablo didn't quite smile but he eased onto a barstool next to Deadshot.

"That's a good idea, honey." Harley nodded and poured him a glass before glancing at Katana, "Ninja, you want some saké?"

Katana shook her head, ignoring the nickname, "Whisky."

Deadshot picked up his glass and gestured with it for the same, "What am I, twelve?"

Mal poured himself a glass of the same, handed Captain Boomerang the pint of Fosters he'd requested and raised a glass, "Here's to honor among thieves."

"I'm not a thief," Katana did not toast. The girl took everything too damn seriously.

"Kinda a joke," Mal explained kindly. "Like old bold soldiers. No such thing."

"There are old soldiers," Leila started.

"And there are bold soldiers," GQ continued.

"But there are no old, bold, soldiers," They concluded in unison.

"Oh." Katana tentatively raised her glass and sipped.

Mal sipped and watched as Harley drank from the insanely girly drink she'd concocted completely with little umbrellas and fruit garnish. Floyd must have been feeling more discouraged than he'd let on at first, "Well, we almost pulled it off."

"Despite what everybody thought," Mal nodded.

"Everybody being Flag," Harley rolled her eyes.

"Worst part of it is, they're gonna blame us for the whole thing. And they can't have people knowing the truth. We're the patsies. The cover-up," The assassin groused. "Don't forget, we're the bad guys."

Mal smirked, "Well…I generally aim to misbehave so…"

That got the soldiers chuckling a bit while Floyd sighed, "For two sweet seconds...I had hope."

Chato shook his head, "You had hope, huh? Hope don't stop the wheel from turning, my brother."

"You preachin'," Digger leaned around Floyd to look at Chato.

"It's coming back around for you," El Diablo shook his head. "How many people you killed, man?"

"You don't ask nobody no question like that, ese," Deadshot stared the tattooed man in the eye. Everyone knew that Deadshot had killed…well, the number was probably too high for anyone but Deadshot and River to calculate really.

"You ain't ever whacked down no women. No kids," Chato shook his head.

"I don't kill women or children," Floyd informed him flatly. Something he had in common with Riddick, from what River had let drop. Made Mal like him a bit better, though he found the assassin easy enough to deal with so far. Floyd hadn't really tried any pushback though, so who knew what the man would be like with a little more ornery in his tone.

"I do," He held up his hand, a woman of smoke and flame forming in his palm. "See, I was born with the devil's gift. I kept it hidden most of my life, but...The older I got, the stronger I got." He shrugged, "So I started using it. For business, you know. The more power on the street I got, the more firepower I got. Like that shit went hand in hand. You know, one was feeding the other. Ain't nobody tell me no." A flash of a wistful smile, "Except my old lady. You know, she used to pray for me. Even when I didn't want it." He shook his head, "God didn't give me this. Why should he take it away?"

He put a glass over his palm and the woman of dancing flames fell to her knees, smoke rising from her body, Mal could almost see her dying, the real woman, curvy, dark haired, knowing eyes and tender mouth, "See, when I get mad, I lose control. You know, I just... I don't know what I do... Till it's done."

"And the kids," Digger's voice, choked, broke the awful silence. Mal wouldn't have pegged the rather crass, Jayne-like thief as being attached to, or having a soft spot for, children but the man seemed honestly horrified by the idea of killing kids.

"He killed them," Harley sounded shaken for a moment. "Didn't you?" She stared at El Diablo like he was simply a foolish boy playing with fire. "Own that shit. Own it!" She shook her head impatiently, "What'd you think was gonna happen, huh?"

"Hey, Harley," Floyd tried to rein her in, for all the good it did him. "Come on."

Digger, maybe in an effort to shock her into silence, "Why is it always a knife fight every single time you open your mouth?"

"What you were just..." Harley would not be muffled or gagged or stopped. "Thinking you can have a happy family... And coach little leagues and make car payments? Normal is a setting on the dryer. People like us, we don't get normal!"

Mal put a hand on her shoulder, "Harley." He shook his head when she looked up. He'd seen what Harley and Digger hadn't. River.

"She's right," His yǎng nǚ did have a knack for taking folks by surprise. All eyes flew to River's face, that elegant voice. "There is no normal for people like us. There are no happy endings in this type of life." She reached across the bar and pulled a bottle of bourbon and two glasses towards her, pouring herself and Riddick a drink. "Not for them as choose it." She lifted a toast to Mal and the Purplebellies, "Not for them it's chosen for." She nodded to the meta-humans and criminals. "Death smiles at us all, but all a man can do is smile back. All we can do is live life as best we can, and when Death comes to smile at us…we say, 'not today'."

"You don't think there's any hope?" Leila tilted her head, almost sad.

"Hope…" River shrugged. "Maybe it's possible to find some sort of life, family, love. But once you are in this life, a normal existence…"

"It ain't enough," Riddick said gruffly from behind her. "Settle down, work a nine to five, be bored and ready to shiv someone in a week. And there's no hiding you're different from everyone around you. Be on the run in two weeks. Better to make your own life. Outside of normal."

"So you've just given up on…what…everything?" GQ didn't get it, not completely and Mal shook his head at him.

"If you're different, you want things regular society don't understand," He explained gently. "Don't matter if you're a Meta, an Independent or if you're just…wired strange. Alliance's made it clear, ain't a place for us in those bright shining worlds. An' if you live on the Rim or Border…well, you're not good enough for the Core so there's obviously somethin' wrong with you. You live as best you can. Find love, family, kindred, among others like you, living similar lives."

"Don't mean we've given up," Riddick growled his arms holding River close making it clear where his hopes lay. "But it means we know we ain't ever gonna 'fit in' an' we're done tryin' and apologizin' for when we can't. That's just the way things are in the 'verse. Nobody gets out alive."

"In the deep dark hills of eastern Kentucky, that's the place where I trace my bloodline and it's there I read on a hillside gravestone you will never leave Harlan alive," River's murmur nearly went unheard, but Riddick nodded his agreement.

"Gotta embrace who you are," Harley added.

Leila nodded slowly and might have replied but the door creaked open and Flag entered the bar. He strode right up and sat heavily next to Deadshot. Mal slid a glance over at River to see how she was taking this development and she shrugged slightly. See how it plays out then.

Harley, predictably enough, was the first to throw down, "We don't want you here."

"You get to the part in that binder saying I was sleeping with her," Flag asked in a broken voice.

"Yeah," Floyd nodded slowly, and Riddick did the same. "I never been with a witch before," Floyd continued. "What's that like?" Flag shook his head and the assassin explained, "Apparently that's why the creatures chase him all the time. 'Cause the witch is scared of him."

"The only woman I ever cared about...Is trapped inside that monster," Flag confessed. "If she isn't stopped it's over. Everything is over. Everything."

Author's Note: Sooo… a few hints in this chapter about my thoughts for how Enchantress will be dealt with. And the truth is out about Incubus and Enchantress and Flag. So at least no one is going in blind. I'm working off a transcript of the uncut movie and I'm grabbing parts I like from it but not necessarily everything. I never really liked the idea that Flag would make a deal with Deadshot, implying that Deadshot would trust the soldier or Flag would trust him. It seemed unnecessary to the story. At least in my opinion.

The bit about there are no happy endings in this life… that's a sticking point for me. All too often people think that you can just 'retire' from a life of crime. Make enough money and then get out. To use a line from Argo 'The bullshit business, it's like coal mining. You come home to your wife and kids, you can't wash it off'. Nobody gets out of a criminal life without sacrifices. There's always a cost. Hence the line from Justified's theme song. Nobody gets out alive.

Chinese Translations:

mùzhōngwúrén (to consider everyone else beneath one (idiom); so arrogant that no-one else matters / condescending / to go about with one's nose in the air)

gǒushǐ duī (a person who behaves badly (lit. "a pile of dog shit"))

Dào dé shuāng shǒu de liǎng gè miàn duì lǘ zi (Sanctimonious two faced jackass / Moral hands of the two faces the donkey)

pì gu (butt)

Liú kǒu shuǐ de biǎo zi hé hóu zi de bèn ér zi (Stupid son of a drooling whore and monkey)

tā mā de (fucking)

Jiào nǐ shēng háizi méi pìgu yǎn (May your child be born with an imperforate anus)

gǒu pì (bullshit, nonsense (lit. "dog fart"))

Bèn tiānshēng de yī duī ròu (stupid inbred sack of meat/a bunch of meat that's stupid)

yǎng nǚ (adopted daughter)

Quote Sources:

Death smiles at us all, but all a man can do is smile back -Marcus Aurelius

In the deep dark hills of eastern Kentucky, that's the place where I trace my bloodline and it's there I read on a hillside gravestone you will never leave Harlan alive -Darrell Scott