Disclaimer: The wonderful characters and the good ship Serenity all belong to Joss Whedon, or Mutant Enemy, or Fox, or whoever actually owns them, and that person or entity is definitely not me. Written for amusement purposes only. No copyright infringement intended or implied.
Rating: T, with rough language warning. May go up for later chapters.
Summary: Eight months after Miranda, the crew of Serenity still struggles to adapt to the "new normal." Constructing, and deconstructing, moments of her life, River attempts to assimilate her new and sometimes painful feelings for Jayne. - - Rayne, but will touch on other relationships. Post-BDM, of course.
Chapter 14: Signs and Portents
"Well, now we know exactly how we rate in this business," Zoë commented dryly as the ramp thumped into the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust. Waves of heat came at them and they had to squint against the brilliant sun. Hob was sleeping on her shoulder and she stepped back to keep him out of the harsh glare.
"They certainly stuck us at the ass-end of the world," Jayne groused with a discontented huff, striding down a few steps to look around, hooking his thumbs in his belt. He cocked his head in the direction of some low-built warehouses not too far over to the left. "Think that's our loadin' area?"
"We are parked in the Jar Jar lot, there's no denyin'," Mal peered out over the vast, gleaming rows and rows of spaceships, shuttles and pleasure cruisers that led to the glistening white buildings and colorful flags of the hotel proper, wavering in the heat, like a magical kingdom far in the distance. He craned his head to the side to see the outer wall of the complex across a small rocky field directly behind them, security towers hovering around the perimeter, shining in the blaring light. The complex was spread out on a huge natural plateau, accessible only by air due to the long and sheer drop to the surrounding desert.
"This is so excitin'," Kaylee enthused, bopping down the ramp to stand between Jayne and Mal. "I never been in a place this fancy before, 'cept maybe Bellerophon, and all I got to see there was the garbage bin. We are gonna get to go over there, right, Cap? To the restaurants, and the casinos, and the shows…? Simon says he wants to take me to a fancy dinner somewhere." She gasped suddenly. "Maybe they got a pool! I ain't been swimmin' since I left home!"
"They have many," River moved out from the shadows and blinked in the sun. "But our landing orders indicate that we should stay with our ship until called upon."
Jayne was standing directly in front of her, and she thought she saw him tense up when he heard her speak.
"Oh…" Kaylee gave a crestfallen whine, her shoulders slumping.
Over these last two days River and Jayne had moved around each other warily, like animals claiming territory, circling the same trees and rocks, scenting each other but not risking a confrontation. He seemed angry at her for some reason, which she found to be unfathomable. Wasn't he the one that had disappeared into the night, almost certainly to cavort with prostitutes? She wasn't even really upset about that, anymore. River's conversation with Inara had helped her recognize the fact that until Jayne knew of her regard for him, she couldn't blame him for acting, well, like Jayne. River kept waiting for some sort of sign, an indication that her feelings might be reciprocated in some way. That blank wall between them filled her with a profound bitterness. Why was it her cruel fate to experience every moment that Kaylee spent maundering on internally about Simon's wonderfulness, and yet not be able to read the one person whose thoughts she was dying to know? She despaired, analyzing and reanalyzing each outcome of revealing her feelings, with too many unknown factors and too few optimal results. Why couldn't romance be more systematic?
"Here comes Monty," Mal shadowed his eyes with his hands as he saw the bulky square of Monty's ship approach from the check point and begin its descent into a space across the thin, dry grass and rubble of the access road.
"Old home week, sir," Zoë said, noting some movement at one of the berths not far down the row. "There's Tasha's ship, and the Waarfs are already here, too. And I ain't sure, but I think that might be Alexander Kehlar next to that."
"Get a wave out to 'em – I think we need to have a meeting…see if any of 'em know what we know, find out what they know…" the captain said over his shoulder to Zoë.
An intensely hot wind came gusting across the plateau, but River shivered. Her senses were beginning to jangle with undercurrents too diffuse to identify yet, so subtle that she wasn't sure if she was just imagining it, spurred on by her own emotional instability. She felt the pressure of too many minds…a façade of exhilaration and pleasure, fountains gurgling up into the sky, the persistent drumbeat of rage, fear and deceit pulsing underneath. Shifting sands…the hot white sun burning…gleaming white minarets stained with blood…a black bird beating its wings at a latticed window… vultures wheeling…
She made a tiny, uncontrollable noise, almost a soundless whimper, but Jayne heard and glanced over his shoulder to look at her. Their eyes met and he frowned, apprehension and concern causing him to begin moving toward her, as if he felt her internal distress. Like on Miranda, when he was the first to understand.
"It's a mirage," she exclaimed suddenly, her voice shrill and distant. "And death comes when the simoom blows."
She shook her head a little to clear it, the back of her neck feeling clammy. A wave of dizziness passed through her and dimly, she noticed that Jayne had stopped when both Kaylee and Mal had turned to look at her, identical chilled expressions on their faces.
"Am I the only one who felt a hint of the prophetic in those words?" Mal asked, very calmly. His voice sounded like it was coming from far away.
"Definitely not, sir," Zoe replied from behind her.
River looked helplessly at Jayne. She felt sick and cold and the goose bumps that raised the flesh of her arms were so keen that they hurt. All she could think about was how warm and strong he was and how much she wished she could call on that strength right now.
I need you. For one surreal moment River thought she might have spoken the words aloud.
Jayne's fists were clenched and it appeared as if he were holding himself very tautly, holding himself back, and it made River wonder: if they had been alone, would he have come to her?
"I take it you had an inkling, little witch?" Mal moved into her line of sight.
"Yes…" she whispered, trying to focus on the captain. The rush of impressions had already become hazy. "But it wasn't very clear."
"Look at her eyes, all black like that – and she's shiverin'! Let's get you inside, sweetie, and have Simon take a look at you." Kaylee put her arm around River's shoulders and guided her gently back into the cooler dimness of the cargo bay. River fought briefly against Kaylee's arm, trying to turn and look back at Jayne. He hadn't moved, and his face was in shadow because of the blinding sun behind him. If she could only see his eyes…
Mal moved up the ramp, pausing when he came level with Zoë and the baby.
"I'm not sure what the gorram hell she said, but it wasn't good," he spoke quietly, watching as Kaylee and River made their way to the infirmary. "Call that meeting."
&&&&&&&&
River lay on the little sofa in the sitting area off the dining room, the crash circle, as Mal often referred to it, wrapped in a blanket, listening to the others talking, killing time waiting for the other crews to show up for the meeting. They thought she was dozing and they were debating what she had said out on the ramp. Without turning her head she could see Jayne's profile, Zoë, who was standing and rocking a fussy Hob, Simon, and Mal. Kaylee and Inara were off to the side closest to the bridge.
"She says she doesn't remember, which is not uncommon when this sort of thing happens to her," explained Simon.
"This sorta thing…" Jayne repeated the euphemism with a derisive snort. "You mean: creepifyin' psychic episodes."
"She can't help it!" Simon snapped, coming instantly to River's defense.
"I know it…don't make it any less creepifyin'." Jayne responded without heat. She could see him shrug. She looked at him unhappily. Is that what it is? Do I repulse and unnerve you?
"She said somethin' about death comin' to you, Simon!" Kaylee brought up urgently, obviously upset. "I heard it clear as day."
"She said I was going to die?" Simon remained unruffled.
"I thought she said death comes when the moon blows." Zoë put in. "Whatever that means."
"What about you, Jayne? You were standin' closest." The captain asked.
"I thought she said something about the 'simoom' blowin' – but I don't know what the fuck that is."
River jolted when she heard the words in his grumbly low voice. That was right…simoom. Simoom, samiel, khamaseen…ancient words for an ancient scourge. The red wind, the Sea of Blood…She shivered.
"Simoom? Are you sure?" Simon questioned Jayne sharply.
"Uh, no. It's your little sis specializes in crazy talk, 'member?" Jayne scratched his cheek.
"Well, actually, that would make sense if she said something about blowing. A simoom is a wind storm that often occurs on planets and moons where geologic formation has inhibited proper terraforming. The result is large deserts, like this one on Sergey, in which cyclonic winds may form and pick up the dust and sand…the temperature rises sharply and the humidity plummets. The result to living creatures enveloped in this storm can be fatal. The possibilities are suffocation, of course, or heat stroke due to the extremely elevated temperature and the inability to reduce body heat fast enough through perspiration and evaporation." Simon cleared his throat, done lecturing.
"What?" Jayne complained, shaking his head a little.
Simon gave him a look of stony-eyed patience. "It's a very hot sand storm. Your brain fries because you can't sweat fast enough, or you choke to death. On sand."
"Okay, then," Jayne sat back thoughtfully.
"So in other words, not a party," Mal remarked with a mocking smile.
"No."
"So what's that mean, 'the simoom blows'?" Kaylee asked edgily, still unnerved by the thought of something happening to Simon.
"It might be symbolic…it might be literal. Although the higher elevation of this plateau would deem it unlikely that we would experience such a storm, we are in the desert." Simon pointed out. "For one, I would highly recommend the crew carry goggles and small, filtered, oxygen units with them at all times when they are off ship."
"Does Serenity have small, filtered, oxygen units?" asked Inara skeptically, pretty certain of the answer.
"Ah, not that I know of." Simon admitted with awkward regret.
Mal lifted his hand and let it fall in disgust.
"We got suits." Kaylee suggested. "Enough for all of us."
There was a distant banging.
"They're here…" Zoë looked toward the stairs, shifting the baby to her other shoulder. "We gonna meet here, or in the bay?"
"I'll go let down the ramp…I always wanted to meet Monty!" Kaylee said excitedly, and jumped up.
"Gotta be down there. We can sit on crates." Mal decided. "Jayne, you bust out the booze like I asked you?"
River saw him nod, but he didn't get up.
"You comin', Doc? 'Nara?" Mal looked at her with a wicked challenge in his wide-set eyes. River could feel his boyish eagerness matched with an equally powerful ambivalence. He wanted her to meet his friends, but at the same time, he was a little embarrassed not only by what she would think of them, but what they would think of a fancy piece like her.
"To meet and imbibe 'booze' with all of your old army buddies? I wouldn't miss it for the world." She smiled in cool amusement, confident in her abilities to behave appropriately in all social situations, both high and low. She rose gracefully, and followed the captain from the room.
River felt Simon coming over and quickly closed her eyes, feigning sleep. She let her breathing become light and shallow, wondering if he would see through her ruse. He checked on her, and apparently convinced, left her where she was without comment, glad she was getting the rest that seemed to elude her of late. River heard his distinctively crisp steps go down the stairs.
"Jayne, will you bring down the cradle for Hob?" Zoë asked, gathering up extra cloths, a small bottle of water, and a blanket for the baby.
"Yeah, got it." River heard his chair scrape back and his footsteps coming closer. Hob's cradle had been set against the wall of the crash circle during the day so that Zoë could put him down somewhere safe and comfortable while she worked in the kitchen or at the table.
River peeked open one eye and gasped a little at the sight of Jayne standing right in front of her, staring down at her with a droll expression. She shut her eye again quickly, mortified that he had caught her doing something so juvenile.
"You feelin' better?" he asked, not fooled for an instant.
She opened up her eyes and nodded grudgingly, a telltale flush heating up her cheeks.
"Then come on down and meet some folk." He bent and picked up Hob's cradle effortlessly, capturing it between his arm and his side. He paused, as if considering, and then held out his free hand to her, palm up. It was the most courteous, the most gentlemanly gesture River had ever seen him make. Her pulse started hammering in her veins as she stared at that hand. Slowly, she reached out and curled her cool fingers over his warm ones, feeling his easy strength as he levered her up and to her feet. The light cotton blanket that she'd been huddled under slid away with a gentle swish. When she seemed to be standing steadily on the floor, he gradually, almost reluctantly, released his grip. He quirked up an eyebrow as if to say, "All good?" and she nodded dumbly in reply.
He turned and maneuvered the cradle out of the entryway, and River followed with dazed steps. Genius she might be, but it still took a few minutes for her spirit to take flight as she realized that this behavior toward her just might be construed as…a sign.
&&&&&&&&
A/N: It's Joss's fault that Mal gets all the strange cultural references. Ah, the perils of admitting that you've read a poem! Thanks for reading, and for all the great reviews. Gem