Carving Out a Future

By: Dreamfall

Summary: Her crew doesn't know that Serenity's new passenger, a carpenter with an 'unusual upbringing', is a relic from the past. Xander says he's not looking for trouble. But, then, neither are they. Not usually, leastways. It just always comes calling anyway. Gen. Canon couples mentioned, but definitely not the focus of the story.

Written for: NaNoWriMo and TTH100: Xander/Firefly

TTH100 prompt: 097-Bonds

Rating: FR13/PG13/T

Disclaimer: I own neither Firefly nor BtVS.

Spoilers: Takes place post Season 7 for Buffy, and post-Objects in Space (and post the comic books, for that matter), but pre-Serenity for Firefly.

Author's Note: This is the story I started in November for NaNoWriMo. I'm thirty or so chapters into it, but since there's going to be at least one hundred chapters (since it's for tth100), they're mostly pretty short. If you're coming from this from my HP fanfics-- it's very different. Way less dark. It's also an incredibly fun story to write, and I do intend to continue with it to its conclusion. And no, it's not taking any real time away from Cat, now that I'm not working obsessively on it, like I was in November. I'll be posting every couple/few days at least till I'm caught up with my livejournal (username dreamfall(underscore)nnwm). Hope you enjoy!

Review Response: Responses to any reviews will be posted in the same livejournal as my other review responses-- username dreamfall(underscore)ff.

Chapter Six
Identities, Mistaken and Otherwise

Xander regained his senses quickly. Judging by the taste in the back of his throat and how his whole body felt almost numb, it had been a drugged stupor. He tightened the muscles in his arms slightly and felt the bonds. Strapped to the bed with medical restraints rather than ropes -- he tried to decide if that was a good sign or a bad one. He kept his breathing steady and his eyes closed as he listened to the discussion around him and waited through the slow seconds it took his short-term memory to return.

Oh.

Sheepishly, he opened his eyes as the doctor said something snarky. "At any rate, it's time to find out -- he's waking," the man added, noticing the open eyes.

Everyone fell silent, turning to stare at him, and Xander blocked out all of them except the captain, fighting back another bout of raw terror as he studied the all-too-familiar face. He looked defensive, feet braced, shoulders back, chin slightly raised. Protective, holding the doctor's little sister as she sobbed into his chest. And though his expression was guarded, Xander read sorrow and pain in it, not relevant to the current circumstances except inasmuch as it reinforced everything he had already figured out. "You're not Caleb, are you?" he said, the words more statement than question.

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds," he replied, voice stiff, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Kind of you t'come to that conclusion on yer own. What led you to it?"

"I'm not dead. Still have my remaining--" he broke off, shook his head. "Still have both my eyes. Haven't been tortured. But the most telling thing is her," he managed to awkwardly point his chin towards the girl, noticing how both captain and doctor shifted slightly, seeming more threatening again at that motion. "If you were Caleb, you'd have killed her for touching you."

"Why's that?" the captain asked, one hand moving in an unconscious gesture of protection to cradle the back of her head. "Got something against her?"

"Against all women. And girls," Xander replied. "He was insane. Thought women were the cause of every evil in the world, and he made it his job to wipe them out." He closed his eyes against the familiar face with its unfamiliar expression. "He was very good at it," he added, startled at how hoarsely his voice came out.

"Shame you didn't work that out afore attackin' me with a scalpel. What with me comin' in with three women, and all."

Xander sighed, reopening his eyes. "I'm sorry about that, Captain. The resemblance is -- frightening." He hesitated a moment, and then added, "I'll understand if you can't trust me enough to let me free on your ship, but I wonder if you could, perhaps, lock me in a room rather than keeping me tied up, if it's going to be more than a few hours? Otherwise it'll take longer to recover from this than from the bullet."

"Spent a lot of time shot and tied up, have you?"

"I've lived in some interesting times," he said, unable to keep his bitterness from his voice.

"Haven't we all," Captain Reynolds muttered, a haunted look passing through his eyes. He turned his eyes down at the girl. "What do you think? Is he fakin' so we let him go, or are his intentions all peaceful-like?" he asked, tone deceptively light, as though not wanting Xander to realize how seriously he'd take her answer.

"The Sleeper sees," she stated.

Xander suppressed a wince while the captain rolled his eyes.

"S'what you get fer askin' the crazy girl," the big guy who'd been disappointed at missing the fight the other night pointed out. "I say let him go. That or toss him out the airlock, if you don't trust him."

"Much though it might fit rather appropriately with recent events, I'd prefer to find an alternative to explosive decompression," Xander offered.

"Ain't nobody getting decompressed, explosively or elsewise," said the girl he'd helped out, pushing her way into the room. "He saved my life, Captain, and he didn't hurt you none -- it was just an accident!"

"Truth be told, my reluctance to release your friend's got less to do with him rushin' me with a scalpel, and more to do with how he thinks he recognizes someone he shouldn't ought to have seen."

"I apologized for that!"

Captain Reynolds just looked at him, eyes narrowing slightly.

Xander sighed. "Would it help if I said I was sure she was a different girl with very distinctive large eyes and an older brother, Simon, who's a doctor?"

The big guy snickered. Nobody else looked amused. "Not much," the captain stated.

"So this leaves us at a bit of an impasse, since it means even after you land you can't let me go if you don't trust me, since I could still report you. Which seems to leave us with the options of a.) death, b.) a lifetime of captivity, or c.) trusting me." He paused thoughtfully, then added, "Or d.) letting me go but cutting out my tongue and off my hands, but I'd really rather not go that route, if it's all the same to you."

"Besides, compared to an eye, a tongue is cheap to regrow," Simon pointed out. Everyone turned to stare at him. "Not that we'd do that anyway! I'm just saying!"

"Yeah, but you said his eye wasn't no good, so mabbe that was all his money," the big guy pointed out.

"It's not?" Xander demanded, one hand jerking instinctively towards his face before it was stopped by the strap. "What's wrong with it? Is it going to stop working? I like having depth perception!"

"Nothing like that," Simon assured him, glaring at the big guy. "It's just not very well matched, which is usually a sign of ... less than spectacular workmanship. I didn't notice any other signs, though. It should be perfectly effective."

Xander relaxed. "Oh. That. Not the doctor's fault." He turned back to the captain. "So what's it to be?"

"Wait, why are your eyes different colors if it's not the doctor's fault?" the girl he'd rescued asked, apparently sensing a story.

He glanced at her and offered a weak smile. "I'd actually rather discuss my future than my past at the moment. Particularly since my bladder's weighing in on the side of anything, as long as it's fast. If you're going to kill me, I'd really appreciate it if you'd do it while I still have some hint of my dignity," he added, turning hopefully back to the captain.

Before he responded, a guy with a friendly face and a bright white and blue Hawaiian shirt wandered up. "Nobody was in the dining room, so I figured Kaylee's hero must have woke up -- hey -- how come Kaylee's hero's strapped to the bed?"

"A case of mistaken identity followed up by a case of dead-on-true identity," the captain responded. "The first led him to attack me. As fer the second, well, it would've been a lot simpler if a certain yu bun duh doctor could follow simple gorram instructions like keepin' his sister away from the gorram stranger!"

"Speaking of which, could I recommend false names?" Xander offered. "I hear they're all the rage with fugitives."

The fighter snorted with amusement, but nobody else even cracked a smile. "I don't know how she got in!" Simon complained. "Last I knew she was reading in her room!"

He was answered with a snort.

The newcomer looked crestfallen. "We're not having killing talks again, are we? I don't wanna have anything to do with killing folks. 'Specially not folks who've saved my favorite mechanic's life."

The captain sighed. "And it's a fact he may've done just that, by the sound of it."

"Shouldn't think so," Xander offered. "Think he was aiming for the big guy -- probably thought he was more dangerous than me." He paused and then added thoughtfully, "Probably right."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Please can you kill me or let me go? I really need to pee."

Kaylee giggled. "He don't act like a man planning to turn a little girl over to people who're gonna cut on her brain, cap'n."

The captain sighed. "Hey River," he said, again just a little too nonchalant. "What do you say? He planning to turn you over to the authorities?"

She looked up from his chest and giggled. "'Course not," she said dismissively. She skipped across the room and released the buckles, ignoring Jayne's yelp of, "Gorram it, girl!"

Knowing that the big guy, at least, could draw and fire far faster than he could move into cover, Xander stayed very still until the captain sighed and nodded approval. Then he rolled to his feet and looked hopefully at the captain.

"Head's through there," Mal said, pointing to a small door.

Xander bolted.