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: 098-Travel

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 Seven
Introductions

When he emerged a couple minutes later, Xander looked far more relaxed. He looked at the still crowded room, and sat back down on the bed. "I think I pulled out those stitches, Doctor Tam. Sorry. It's my own fault for attacking the good captain, of course."

"Not gettin' no more of my blood!" Jayne stated, while the doctor moved forward to remove the bandage and check the would beneath.

"Lie back down," Simon said. "Let me take a look. Hopefully you haven't done too much damage."

The man obeyed, crossing his arms under his head and turning to look over at the others rather than watching as his bandages were removed. "I didn't realize I got any of your blood before," he commented, offering Jayne a grin. "I appreciate the loan -- if I can ever return the favor..."

"I'll keep it in mind, too," Zoë stated, raising one brow as she looked down at him, arm resting lightly on her husband's shoulders. "You lost a lot -- got a bit from each Jayne and me. If you get sick, of course, blame his."

"Hey!" Jayne complained.

"So Kaylee says yer name's Xander?" Mal asked doubtfully.

"Yeah. Xander Harris."

He nodded. "Not one I've heard. I'm Mal Reynolds, like I said. This's my first mate, Zoë, and her husband, our pilot, Wash. You met Simon, the doc, and River we both know you know who is. Kaylee, here, you met last night, and I guess you saw Jayne real briefly then, too."

The man nodded to each in turn, then blinked at the last name. "Jayne, huh? Never knew a man with that name before."

"Oh yeah," Wash interjected cheerfully. "There's a song and everything. The man they call Jaaaaaynne," he began, then dove behind his wife, as Jayne lunged for him. Zoë raised one brow, and the merc backed off with a growl.

Xander grinned. "There's gotta be a story there."

"Not one what needs telling," Jayne snapped, turning his glare to the man on the bed, and taking a threatening step forward.

"Hey, helpless under the doctor's knife here, no attacking!" Xander yelped, mostly joking, judging by the smile, jerking a bit as he pulled his arms out from behind his head to hold up protectively before him.

The doc raised his eyes from his work to level a glare at his patient. "Unless you want to rip these even before I'm done putting them in, stay still!"

Xander gave him a cowed look and settled back down.

Mal snickered. "So you got anyone you gotta wave back on Persephone?"

"Nope."

"You can just vanish and nobody will worry or nothin'?" Kaylee asked, surprised.

"I only got in a few days back. The motel I was staying at will probably be delighted to get rid of me before the week I paid for was up, and since I didn't leave anything in the room, no biggie."

"Shiny! So what were you doin' there, just for a week?"

He shrugged. "Finding the best way to leave, I guess. Didn't care for it. I've just been interviewing ships to figure out who to book passage on next, so I guess you did me a favor taking me up. Even not counting your work," he added, glancing down at Simon, then quickly averting his eyes again.

"Doncha even care where we're going?" Kaylee asked.

Xander shrugged. "Not much. There's only a handful of worlds I've been to so far, so I figure the odds are good you're not heading for any of them. And as for the rest, well, one's as good as another."

"Got a goal to see each one?" Wash asked. "I planned that once. Then I realized 'most all of 'em were about the same, and the best things out there were in between anyway."

"Nah, just waiting for one of 'em to feel like home," he said, starting to shrug, and then stilling at another glare from the doc.

Jayne and Kaylee exchanged a look, then Jayne burst out, "So it's true, 'bout your world?"

"What about it?"

"You said the whole thing died! That you didn't even know where or how or nothin'."

Xander blinked, though Mal thought he caught a hint of strain about the man's eyes as he said, "Must've been the concussion talking."

"Where'd you start out then?" Mal asked.

"Londinum."

That actually made the doctor look up, startled. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed -- I mean-- " he flushed.

"I seem more the border type?" Xander asked, a grin showing that he hadn't taken any offense. "Yeah, well, I had a bit of an unusual upbringing by any standards."

"So you're pro-Alliance then, bein' from Londinum," Mal said thoughtfully, keeping his tone carefully noncommittal.

Xander glanced at him. "Not so much. I've never worked against them, but I haven't worked for them, either, and I've had a couple bad experiences with government getting too involved in things best left alone in my life. The Alliance seems a little too 'you-shall-be-assimilated', if you know what I mean."

Mal glanced around to see if that had made sense to anyone else. "Can't say as I do."

A hint of a smile was quickly replaced by a look of total consternation. "Jesus, I'm the G-man."

"You're the what?" Kaylee asked.

"Is that some kind of special services?" Wash demanded.

He laughed, though it sounded a bit forced, and shook his head. "Nah, just a nickname of an old friend I just realized I'd become. Didn't get any of the pop culture references, and when he tried using the ones he knew, they were too out-of-date for anyone to get. Um. Right. Never mind. What were we talking about?"

"The Alliance," Mal said, leaning back against the counter as he stared down at the other man. His accent was strange, too -- not border, not core, not a single thing he'd ever heard, though it wasn't all that strong. Whole bundle of strangeness, this Xander.

"Right. They just seem a little too all-encompassing. I don't trust governments who don't have any competition -- too likely to decide the rules don't apply to them, start doing things they should stay the hell out of."

"Like, for example?"

Xander shook his head. "Haven't paid much attention to politics around here -- I don't have the faintest idea what they're likely to get themselves up to. I just know that with nobody to keep them in line, they're not likely to stay all that benevolent for long."

"'Around here'," Zoë repeated thoughtfully. "And just where could you be from that you had to worry about some government other than the Alliance? Because last I heard, it's the only one we've got."

The man shrugged. "Just a manner of speaking. It all goes back to the unusual upbringing thing."

"There," Simon interjected, tying off his bandage, and starting to put away his gear. "If you remain reasonably still for a time, that should hold you, Mr. Harris."

"Xander! Please! Otherwise, even knowing he's dead, I'll start looking for my father, and I so don't need to think about him!"

Simon blinked. "I'm sorry for reminding you of your loss."

"No, no, not that. The loss is fine. It's the man I don't want to think of -- losing him was the best memory of him I have. Not that I was there, so it wasn't really a memory. But. Yeah."

Simon stared at him blankly for a long moment, then nodded. "Well... Xander, try not to go attacking anyone for a time. I'll want to check that daily for a bit, and you have to be careful to keep the bandages dry. If they get damp, let me know and I'll change them."

He nodded solemn agreement. "Will do. Where am I staying till you boot me off the ship, presuming you don't decide I'm too much of a risk after all and kill me? In which case, where am I staying till you kill me?"

Mal laughed again, and motioned for him to follow. "Go on to the dining area, everyone, I'll show Xander, here, to the passenger dorm, then we'll join ya. They're not big or nothin', but they're comfortable enough."

"Sounds fine, I don't need much," he said, standing up as the others started filing back out of the room. He jumped forward to touch Kaylee's arm lightly as she started out, and she turned, head cocked to one side in inquiry. "Did you bring my bag? Please, please tell me you brought my bag?"

"Sure, it's right there," she said with a laugh. "Other side of the bed."

He turned to look, and signed with relief. "All my worldly possessions," he explained. "Some of this stuff was a pain in the ass to find, too -- I'd be sorry as hell to lose it."

Simon put out a hand as he bent to lift it. "Not for a couple more days, please, if it's heavy. Someone else can take it in for you." He turned to River, who was staring at the palm of her hand in intent fascination, and murmured, "Let's go get some dinner, mei-mei." When she gave no sign of noticing, he sighed, took her lightly by the shoulder, and led her out of the room.

Mal rolled his eyes and stepped past Xander to heft the bag. "Heavy. You carrying stones in here, or something?"

"Nah, metal mostly," he said with a laugh. "Woodworking tools. I'm a carpenter."

"Now that's somethin' ya don't see every day," Mal murmured, slinging the bag over his shoulder and preceding Xander out of the room. "Carpenter, huh? Don't know as I've ever met someone who just worked with wood -- known a fair few who know how to pound a nail and raise a house if'n it's called for, but makin' a whole profession of it seems a bit different."

"Yeah, I used to do construction, but I've come to like precision work better," he replied cheerfully. "Cupboards and chests, inlaid patterns. Picture frames, jewelry boxes, whatever. Made a cane for a friend who had some trouble with his leg. Jewelry every now and then, but I tend to prefer things with a bit of function, too."

"Where do you come by your wood?" Mal asked curiously, opening the door to one of the spare rooms and waving the other man through.

"Mostly I've worked small things lately, and I either find trees and harvest a couple branches myself or, if I want something I can't find on my own, or something big, buy it. I haven't found sources for everything I want, though. That's one of the things I'm hoping will come of traveling around a bit. That I'll find some more sources. I'd like to get back into the bigger stuff, rather than just glorified whittling, but I need to settle down someplace first. Can't keep planet-hopping if I'm going to have a worthwhile bench and be working on some good-sized projects. Too much stuff to move and most of the ships I've been on have had quarters a lot like this -- perfectly livable, but not close to big enough to set up a workshop."

Mal nodded understanding. "Guess you can get settled down. There's no Cortex connection in here. If you wanna send a beam or anything, ask one of the crew and we'll set you up."

"And monitor me, no doubt," he said cheerfully. "Oh don't worry, I don't mind. And I don't have anyone I need to contact anyway."

"Right. Good then. After sleepin' for two days, I'd bet you could eat a sou da-shiong."

Xander's smile in response looked a hint uncertain, and he said, "Definitely on the hungry side. I appreciate all this. Your taking me in as well -- I know you didn't have to fix me up when they brought me. You could've dumped me at the local hospital, or even just on the street. I've gotta think that to you I'm only a risk, so I really do appreciate it. And though I doubt you'll trust it, you've my word that I won't report the Tams or anything else I might see or hear on your ship."

"You suggestin' somethin'?" Mal demanded, stepping in threateningly.

"No, not really. But since I got to the outer worlds I've had discussions with quite a few crews of quite a few ships where I got threatened about revealing illicit cargo, and I never reported them. Well. Except once."

"Very reassuring," Mal drawled.

"Yeah. Well. Okay, if you're smuggling organs stolen from previously live children to sell to the sick rich in the core, I'll report you, too," he said, face twisting slightly with disgust at the memory.

Mal stepped back. "Willy Ryder?"

Xander shifted imperceptibly, rocking forward slightly onto the balls of his feet, knees flexing, hands opening slightly, very relaxed. "That was him. Friend of yours?"

"Seein' as you don't know me so well, I won't take offense at yer askin'," Mal said softly. "There's some folk near as bad as Reavers. Maybe worse, cuz they do it for money and in full possession of their minds. Did they catch the niao SE duh hwoon dahn ?"

A slow, predatory smile crossed Xanders lips. "They did."

"Good. Let's grab us a bite to eat."