Disclaimer: None of these are my characters. Joss Whedon is the man.
An hour out of Persephone, Mal made his way up to the bridge, where River was just setting the auto-pilot on their heading toward Osiris. "Hey, little one, I need to send a Wave. I guess I don't need to kick you out, since you know what's goin' on already, huh?"
"I suppose not, although I believe it would be in everybody's best interest for me to stay out of range of the feed." River smiled up at Mal, and moved over to the co-pilot's chair, where she pulled her feet off the floor and curled up like a contented house cat. "How's Jayne, by the way?"
"You showin' concern for Jayne?" scoffed the Captain. "You sure you're feelin' all right? Maybe you should head down to the infirmary and let your brother check you out."
River stuck her tongue out at the Captain, and replied, "I don't care about that liu koushui de biaozi he houzi de ben erzi, but it would be inconvenient to lose our hired muscle at this juncture."
"Language, little girl!" Mal gushed in disbelief. "You're liable to make me blush straight down to my boots!" River stuck her tongue out at him again. "'Sides, you only talk like that on bad days, and I'd like to believe this is a fairly good one." Mal paused, scrutinizing his youngest crew member. "It is a good day, right young 'un?"
"Better than you understand. Crazy Girl went away, and left River in her place. And I'm not so young as you all pretend. Crazy Girl and Little Girl were the same person. River is grown now, a full member of the crew." River had fixed a piercing gaze on Mal, and it's intensity made him uncomfortable for some indefinable reason. Of course, his situation wasn't helped by the fact that, as she spoke, she put her feet down and sat up straight, highlighting her physique in a way the Captain was pretty sure he shouldn't be noticing.
"Well, it's plain to me you are, at that. Now why don't you sit your grown self back, out of the way of the Cortex video feed, so's I can call your Pa." River relaxed back into the chair, pulling her knees back up to her chest, as Mal dialed the Cortex address for Gabriel Tam.
"Captain Reynolds," Mr. Tam said through the feed. "I take it you've departed Persephone safely?" Once again, there was an impatient note in his voice, along with a certain resigned quality.
"We rightly have, Mr. Tam. We should be on Osiris by day after tomorrow, if'n my pilot tells me right." Mal looked to his left, and River nodded once, afraid her father would recognize her voice. Now that he was so close, she wasn't sure she wanted to see or speak to him. Mal didn't notice her discomfort as he turned back to the Cortex screen to continue. "Would you like us to come to you, or would that break some of your precious high-society rules?" Mal couldn't keep the leer completely out of his voice.
"As a matter of fact, I had intended to meet you at the docks, if that is acceptable to everybody. I hope you won't be terribly offended if I don't invite you straight away to my home. After all," Gabriel gave Mal a cold smile, "I hardly know you, except by reputation. I'm not sure what type of people I would be harboring."
"Now if that's supposed to be some kind'a insult, Mr. Tam," Mal began angrily. River stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, which shocked him into silence. He looked at the hand, and then up to her face. She shook her head wordlessly, and sat back again. With a meaningful look of gratitude, Mal turned back to the feed. "Mr. Tam, that sounds like a right fine plan. I'm sure we all look forward ta meetin' the father of two people we've come to respect mightily over the past year. You can check with the comptroller day after tomorrow for our exact landin' time and what berth we'll be given." Gabriel Tam nodded his assent, and signed off with a brief "Good day, Captain."
Mal looked back over at River, a question in his eyes. "He would have refused to see us. You'd never be able to give Simon the closure he needs." River stood up, walked behind the pilot's chair, and started rubbing Mal's shoulders. "You're so tense. Why did you let him anger you so much?"
Mal, who tried half heartedly to squirm out from under hands that felt too good to properly fight off, answered her as honestly as he could. "I don't rightly know, River. Seems to me he thinks he's better'n me, just because he got money an' I ain't. Now what the gui do you think you're doin' back there?" River had gently pushed Mal until he was hunched forward, and her hands were slowly but firmly working their way down his back.
"I'm trying to help you relax. Your muscles are getting more tense, not less. Ignore the person, pay attention to the hands. This is not your little River, this is your masseuse. Of course, this would be much easier on your masseuse if you were lying down." She said the last in a somewhat sultry voice. River's hands were doing amazing things to Mal's back, and he had begun to heed her words. He was just stretching farther forward, truly enjoying the back rub, until the last sentence.
The Captain sprang out of the pilot's chair quicker than he had thought possible, spinning around to face the person with the wonderful hands and the subversive ideas. "Woah there, little one! Either it's been too long since I had a good rub down, or you're witchin' me, but I don't think this is proper Captain/Pilot relations we're havin' here. Why don't you finish doin' your pilot-ey things, and I'll go find somethin' unrelated and Captain-ey to do." Mal muttered as he walked off the bridge, "All the way across the ship." Guess I'm losing my touch, thought River. Didn't realize he'd react so strongly to that suggestion. Perhaps it was the tone of voice. Mustn't attempt to seduce, must let nature take it's course. She sat back down in front of the pilot's console and stared out into the Black. I'll have to take it a little slower from now on, she thought. There was always the option to invade his dreams, and speed the process along from his end, but River felt that might be an invasion of privacy too strong to condone. Even for the best of intentions.
XXXXX
Mal made his way into the galley, hoping to find a cup of coffee and some solitude. It was not to be, unfortunately. Simon and Kaylee were sitting at the table, closer than could possibly be comfortable for either of them, sharing some fresh fruit Simon had bought planet-side. They were feeding each other, giggling and talking in low tones until they noticed his presence.
"Hi, Cap'n!" beamed Kaylee as je got up and veritably bounced over to him. She wrapped her second favorite man in a big bear hug, and then reached up and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek. She smelled of kiwi, which Mal guessed was the last thing she had eaten. "Want some fruit? We've got some citruses left! They look delicious." Kaylee made her way back over to the table, where she resumed her almost-in-Simon's-lap seat.
"No thanks, lil' Kaylee," Mal answered with a smile. "You two enjoy that fruit all by your lonesomes. I just wanted to get some coffee before I headed down to the bay. How's our girl behavin'?"
"Oh, Serenity's great, Cap," Kaylee answered with another beaming smile. "She says thanks for the new parts, too, by the way. I bet we'll get to Osiris ahead'a schedule now, too. Wouldn't wanna make Inara late for her check up!"
"Nope," Mal answered, "wouldn't wanna do that. You kids try to have too much fun now, you hear?" Mal stared daggers at Simon, then walked past and kissed the top of Kaylee's head before leaving the room.
"I love my Cap'n," he heard Kaylee gush as he stepped up into the passageway. He couldn't hear Simon's muttered response, but Mal was fair certain it wasn't exactly charitable.
Making his way to the cargo bay, for no discernable reason other than to be moving, than to be somewhere other than the bridge, Mal let his mind wander. Inevitably, it wandered to the wonderful feeling of slender hands ranging over his back, making his muscles relax in ways they hadn't been in years. Mal tried desperately to shut out the mutinous thoughts, but for once his mind refused to be silenced. Now, instead of memories of his brief encounter with those wonderful, evil hands, his mind was showing him imagined images of how much better those hands could work if he were to lay down. In his bunk. Mal pounded back his coffee as he tried to head off what he knew were thoughts he shouldn't be having. Those hands on his bare back, instead of through the rough material of his shirt. Those hands on his thighs and calves, ranging the entire length of his body. Those hands turning him over, rubbing his chest. Looking up from those hands, into the big brown eyes of their owner. NO! Mal violently shook himself, trying to wrench his mind away from thoughts that would make a father blush. Of course, he wasn't her father, or even a father, but his role on Serenity couldn't be called anything but patriarchal. Still, there were girls on the Rim worlds who were married and bearing children younger than River was, so what was the harm in a little harmless daydreaming?
No, Mal repeated over and over to himself, like a mantra. Daydreaming leads to night dreaming, and night dreaming leads to physical longings, and longings lead to things Simon would murder me for. Not that guilt alone wouldn't punish Mal sufficiently just for the daydreams, even the ones he'd already had. Thinking on it, Mal was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to sleep that night.
XXXXX
He was in the Valley. Except it wasn't the Valley. It looked the same, minus the bodies, bugs and carrion birds. It was peaceful. Mal couldn't ever remember having seen Serenity Valley actually live up to it's name. His only memories of the place were violent, blood choked ones. He stood on the hill where they had made their last stand, right before they were ordered to lay down arms and surrender. He could look clear across the Valley, through the clean air and the brilliant sunshine. After a few minutes, Mal thought he could detect a slight movement on the other side of the Valley, though it was difficult at this distance to tell for sure what it was.
With a speed only possible in dreams, the object practically sped across the Valley floor. Within moments, he saw a person working it's way up the hillside toward him. Another couple blinks of his eyes, and the person resolved itself into a woman. She was concentrating on her footing, so he couldn't see facial detail through her long brown hair. Somehow, though, he thought he knew who this person was. She was wearing the same green dress she had worn the day they released the Miranda signal. It was stained with the blood and gore of the Reaver fight. In one hand, she held the sword he had seen her practicing with in the cargo bay recently. It wasn't the same one she'd used then, but it was also stained with blood. The stains on the sword's blade looked fresher than those ground into her dress. A bit of blood still dripped from the tip of the deadly-looking weapon.
When she was no more than ten feet in front of and slightly below him, she stopped. Slowly, she looked up into his eyes. Her eyes were expressive. Not vacant, like on some days, not angry, like on the really bad ones. Almost ... sated. As if whatever she had just finished doing satisfied her immensely. She held the sword out to him, pommel first, and he had to walk toward her to take it. He never broke eye contact.. Once he had the weapon in his hand, he was finally able to look away from those frightening eyes. He looked down at the sword, and found it was the one she had used against the Reavers, after all. He could see bits of hair and flesh stuck in the jagged blade, but somehow he knew it wasn't Reaver hair or Reaver flesh. It was the hair and flesh of ...
"You don't want to acknowledge it," she said. "It's too terrifying to admit, so you bury it in the back of your mind, and pretend it never happened. Once you realize their deaths weren't your fault, you won't have to live in this personal hell."
He looked up at her again, and noticed immediately all the bodies littered across the floor of the Valley behind her. "I couldn't save them," he said quietly. "Zoë was the only person who made it out of here. She was the only person I could save." A small sob escaped his throat, and he could feel hot tears washing down his cheeks unchecked.
"Once you let go of the past, you can embrace the present fully. Once you realize that Zoë isn't the only person you saved, you can start to truly live your life again. Your crew – your family – needs you. They're waiting for you. I'm waiting for you."
"Why?" Mal asked in a broken voice. "Why would you want someone as broken and helpless as me?"
"Broken – that's what they call me, too. Two broken people can fix each other." Without waiting for a response, she turned around and walked away, stepping over or around bodies where she could, walking on top of them where she couldn't.
Mal looked down, and saw that the sword he held was once again the blade in the hard case he had allowed her to keep. He dropped the sword, and when it hit the ground it turned into another body. He twisted his head to the side to get a better look, and gasped. It was like looking into a mirror, except that in this mirror image, his face was dead and bloody, dried out and pecked at in places by the carrion birds. The eye sockets stared blankly up at the sky, the eyes already taken by the scavengers.
The mouth opened, and a dry rasp issued forth. "You didn't die here. Don't live the rest of your life regretting that."
Malcolm Reynolds had never in his life screamed in such abject terror as he did at that moment.
XXXXX
He woke up, still screaming, thrashing around in the blankets he had gotten tangled up in. His body was soaked in sweat and his heart was pounding so hard he thought it would burst.
The hatch to his bunk was slammed open, and Zoë dropped down into his bunk, her feet not even touching the rungs of the ladder. She had a pistol in her hand, but when she saw they were alone, she holstered the weapon. "You okay, sir?" her voice and her eyes radiated such care and concern as he had never seen or heard from her before.
Still gasping for air with lungs that felt as if they weren't working properly, Mal held up one hand in a 'wait' gesture. Once he had regained the ability to speak, he wet his lips and answered, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bad dream. I'm sorry if I woke everyone up."
"S'all right, sir. We're actually eating breakfast right now. Was gonna wait till after chow to see if you were plannin' on joinin' us, though. If everything's all right, I'll just go finish my meal." Behind the indifferent words, however, Mal could still hear her worry and fear.
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I'll be up soon." Once Zoë left, Mal got out of bed and ran some water into a bowl to sponge himself off with. After the impromptu bath and his other morning ablutions, the Captain made his way slowly to the galley, where the rest of the crew were still sitting in concerned silence. Everyone but River. Mal tried to say nonchalantly, "Hey doc, where's our pilot?" but the words still came out with a ragged edge.
"She was still in her room when I came up to breakfast. A-are you ... all right?" Simon had the 'worried doctor' look, with some confusion thrown in for good measure, on his face.
"Yeah, fine," Mal responded. "Why?" although his voice wasn't quite steady yet, his tone still brooked no argument.
"Oh, no reason, Cap'n," Kaylee responded for Simon, the worry clear in her eyes. "Just the terrified screamin' an' all."
"I said I'm fine," Mal answered again. "We got any coffee left?" After helping himself to a cup, the Captain wandered through the passageways of the ship, until he found himself, quite without intention, in the passenger dorms. He could hear a quiet noise coming from River's room, so he walked over and knocked softly. "River? You in there, little one?"
"No more screaming," he heard from the other side of the screen. The voice was low, and terrified. Without waiting for anything else, he slid the screen open and rushed into the room. Setting his cup down on the nightstand, he sat down on the edge of the bed, next to a scared pilot, curled up in a ball in the corner, rocking while holding her forehead against her knees.
"Hey, hey. None'a that now," he cooed gently. "It was just a bad dream, is all. Shh." Mal wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder and whispered quiet, calming nothings into her ear until she stopped rocking and looked up at him. "Was that really you? In my dream, I mean."
"It was me, but I had no control. I've never felt so helpless since the Academy. I knew I was speaking to you, but I couldn't control the words." River buried her face in his shoulder and started to cry softly.
"Shh, it's okay now," Mal said gently. After a moment, he had a thought, and continued, "Was this what you meant when you said you needed me? Did you mean you needed someone to come help you calm down?"
"No," River responded from his shoulder, "I wasn't this way until you screamed. Mal alive, and Mal dead, the two should never have met. It was awful."
"It was only a dream, little one," Mal answered. "It's over now."
"But it was so real," River sobbed. "Everything I said, everything you said. Even the things... he ... said." The poor girl was hiccupping now, trying to get her breathing and crying under control. She slowly slid her feet down the bed, letting her body follow until she was laying down. She had balled her fists up in Mal's shirt, and so had dragged him down with her.
"Uhh, sweetie," Mal said uncomfortably, "I think you oughta let me go now. This is sorta a compromisin' position for me."
"Stay," was all she said. Mal found he couldn't fight her, so he got more comfortable next to her. He started working out a good excuse in his head for the possibility that one of the crew – Simon, worst case scenario – happened to come down and see them like this. River, laying on her side facing Mal, who was also on his, slid a leg in between his, so that they were laying entwined like lovers. "With Kaylee. Your virtue is safe," she whispered sleepily. Mal settled himself in to wait, and they both fell asleep like that. They were undisturbed until they woke up two hours later.
liu koushui de biaozi he houzi de ben erzi - Stupid son of a drooling whore and a monkey
gui – hell