A/N: It's a bit short, but I reached a good stopping point. I might revise it later...
Walk Among Ghosts
Part 5: Stormy Understanding
Mal was starting to feel the strain of the day. The landing on this dirtball world was deceptively gentle, and reflecting back on the uncharacteristic glide Serenity had taken on the way down he should have known that the day was about to become long and frustrating. He'd overlooked it, of course. Instead he had patted River on her shoulder for the good job, one that Wash would have been hard pressed to top, in fact, given how touchy the old firefly was about landings. Really, he should have known then. Like the blind man he was, he'd brushed it off and chalked it up to things finally going his way. Things never went his way, and when they did, he usually ended up in pain.
The next clue that the day was not going to go well was the trouble in locating the cargo. It only took them about thirty seconds to load it once they found it, but the finding took the better part of twenty minutes. He knew they had time though so wasn't worried that the drop wouldn't happen. He'd been vaguely worried he would end up on the Doc's table getting a bullet removed, but no inkling that he'd be stood up. Yet… the meeting hadn't happened. They waited, then looked around, then waited… Finally he decided that two hours was long enough and it was time to get back to space.
By the time the mule pulled back up to the ship and he spotted River a sinking feeling was starting to build in his gut. Her run made it worse. This place intensified it. Kaylee's passing out was either due to her and the doctor not being careful enough or - something very strange was going on. He almost wished that the pair had put a bun in the oven, in spite the problems that would cause in the long run. His luck though would be that something was happening here, in this oddly out of place structure. That feeling strengthened until it was enough to threaten to pull him through the floor. He really needed a drink.
His sense of movement for a moment gave him the feeling that he was standing still and the universe was speeding around him. He blinked and the sensation disappeared. He looked over at Jayne and opened his mouth to ask what exactly was going on here when, unfortunately for Mal, all hell broke loose.
Cupboards all around the room flew open and the rather expensive contents began to soar about in a hurricane of glass, china, and silverware. Stunned, Mal stood frozen as a china set for something like twenty, complete with bread plates, swirled past him, teacups chattering and clattering in an odd little dance. Jayne made an undignified squaw of pure terror as he ducked a rather heavy crystal pitcher aimed at his head. The captain's attention was focused on the salad tongs snapping past his ear as the pitcher swerved upwards at the last possible moment, hovered just over Jayne, who quickly attempted to dodge, before crashing with a shower of tinkling shards just behind the barstool Jayne had been leaning against.
Both men threw their arms up against the heavy, sharp, fragments. "What the guay?" Mal asked the air in disbelief, before trying another tactic. One inspired by Inara's earlier display in the hall. "Stop this insanity right now. All I wanted was a goddamn drink because it's been one very long day. You want our help? You better play nice. You hear me?"
Jayne's head snapped up until his eyes met Mal's. The look on the merc's face was one that stated clearly that perhaps the captain had some screws loose. The chaos around them intensified as the dual taps began to flow, ice spilled out of the dispenser, and the dishwashers began to spew foamy water out their seals. The sheer volume of noise was likely to bring the others running at any moment, and Mal didn't want to deal with River in the middle of this chaos. He cocked his head and let up a little wish that the damn door had stuck then retracted it because with his luck the exact opposite was more likely.
So while Jayne made an odd dance through the maelstrom of pots and pans, crystal and china, Mal just stood there, plates and spoons swirling about in the air around him, an intense expression on his face, and his hand hovering over his holster. "I'm not kidding," he finally said in the tone of voice that chilled Jayne to the core.
The merc ducked and stayed half crouched behind the bar with various items sailing past his head of their own accord. Jayne had heard that tone of voice before, one time. It was a tone he'd never forget. Just hearing it sent him back to that space in time when the only thing between life and death had been Mal's desire to cause him pain first. He swallowed then flinched as a heavy wooden ladle clobbered the middle of his back.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Zoë was watching Simon hover over Kaylee and Inara circle the study. River dozed on the sofa. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the first bang echoed through the hall. It caused her to look toward the kitchen. Oddly enough the noise sounded like crystal shattering. Maybe Mal was scaring the crap out of Jayne again? She caught the companion's eye, signaled her to stay with the others, stepped out of the room into the hall and closed the door behind her. Inara's watchful gaze could keep the others safe enough. There was no reason to get River worked up this late in the day, and Simon was stressed enough over Kaylee.
The sound of water rose in the silence of the hall. That was odd. It seemed to be a massive amount of water running through the pipes like every tap in the place was on at once. She couldn't pin it down to any one location until 'blurb' interrupted the even flowing noise. She frowned and moved toward the kitchen. Mal's voice carried on the air, "I'm not kidding," and she froze. The last time he'd used that tone of voice he'd almost killed Jayne.
Her various 'hats' warred with each other. The part that was Mal's friend wanted to find out what was going on. The part that was the second in command whispered that if Jayne had done something to the engineer that it was Mal's job to take care of it, and she should leave it be. Then there was the 'mothering' part of her that felt Jayne needed someone to keep him alive, because he was too stupid at times to do it himself. Mal could be wrong. The final tally was two to one and she steeled herself as she reached for the door.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Just as suddenly as it began, everything fell to the floor with a multi-toned clatter of china and glass breaking among a mulit-timbre metallic clang. Mal visibly relaxed. Then, much to his surprise, a bottle of well-aged whisky wobbled across the floor to settle against his boot. Mal bent down to pick it up just as a squadron of shot glasses aimed at his head like they'd been thrown. Behind him Jayne said, "Ouch. What'd ya do that for?" Mal looked over at Jayne to see him rubbing his temple where a rather specific pattern was emerging in the bruise.
Mal picked up the shot glass and studied the cut pattern on it before looking back at the mark. "That was pretty good. Nice impression, but no breaking the skin."
The door rattled and the room was plunged into darkness. Mal cursed softly under his breath and made sure his grip on the bottle was secure. The door opened to reveal Zoë's form. "Why are you in here in the dark?" she asked as she reached for the switch on the wall.
"Ah, no reason… just, um. Jayne?" Mal felt rather sheepish about the entire episode and was glad for the darkness. How would he explain the mess?
"Yeah," came the sound of Jayne's voice from behind the bar where he was still huddled.
Zoe rolled her eyes. More likely than anything was the possibility that the noise had nothing to do with anything. She flipped the switch and the lights illuminated an immaculate kitchen, save the shot glasses on the bar and the ajar door where bottles of liquor were stored. "Getting a drink?"
Mal nearly dropped the scotch. Then he recovered his cool and gathered up the glasses. "I do believe that we all need it." He moved toward the study leaving behind a baffled Jayne and an amused Zoë.