Chapter Five

Guns flashed and banged, sharp noises cutting through the night and throwing shadows across the hard packed earth. Bullets ricocheted and sent men toppling, fingers still curled around the triggers of their guns.

He crouched, waiting, behind the barricades, fingers fumbling as he tried to put more bullets in. Around him fellow soldiers lay, some dead, others only wounded.

The bullets slipped out of his fingers as another blast of cannon fire ripped through the air, and he cursed, diving to the ground and feeling blindly, trying to see the small pieces of metal in the dim light.

His hand meets leather and he looks up up up into the face of…River?

"Time to wake up," she sing songs, and then a hand reaches out and grabs his hand and he's-

awake. Mal jerks upright with a gasp, hand going at once to the gun by his bedside table. But his hand closes around air and he finds himself pinned down by a heavy weight, staring up into a pair of large brown eyes. He almost yells but there is something holding his mouth shut and it takes everything he has to figure out how to breathe.

The blind panic and battle instincts fade from his head slowly and he glares up at River, trying to put all of his righteously indignant Captain-y anger in a stare that he feels sure should have her withering into a little heap of bones.

She smiles down at him and pulls away, settling into a comfortable little ball at the end of his bed, her knees drawn up to her chin and her hair hanging all around her, staring at him with amused eyes and a slightly mocking smile.

Pulling himself up with all the injured dignity he can, Mal reaches for his gun again and, realizing it isn't there, aims another withering glare at River.

At this time she has the grace to look a little apologetic, and she hands him the gun from where it has been placed next to her.

"What did I say about guns?" he snaps, noticing with a feeling of relief that it is unloaded. Still, the thought of River, in all her psychopathic wonder, holding a gun makes him feel more than a mite unsafe.

"Shoot Jayne with them?" she asks hopefully. He blinks at her, wondering for a second if she is serious, but she just smiles back at him, and he feels his lips twitching.

"Close, but no." He puts the gun away and draws his legs up to his chest, leaning his head back against the headboard of his bed. "Now, you want to explain why you're in my cabin in the middle of the gorram night, waking me up from a nice relaxing sleep?"

"Wasn't sleeping." He resists the urge to roll his eyes with much difficulty.

"You weren't sleeping, so you thought you'd just wake me up for kicks and giggles?" She nods, hair swishing around her, and beams at him.

He ponders that for a second. Crazy girl comes to the mean ol' broken captain suffering from nightmares. Probably some moral kicking around in there somewhere. Maybe they were supposed to have milk and cookies and talk about all their troubles and reach the conclusion that they were broken, but together they could heal.

And then what, skip away into the sunset while unicorns sang love songs? Oooh, maybe there would be rainbows. And birds chirping in the trees.

He shuddered. The horror of it all. THE HORROR.

"I like unicorns," River said, staring at him earnestly. "They're sparkly and white and happy."

"The only good unicorn is a dead unicorn," Mal asserted. River stared at him with wide eyes.

"Do you think their blood is pink?"

There were three ways to answer this question: engage, evade, or ignore. Whether it was the late hour or the lack of sleep or both, Mal decided to engage.

"No, it's rainbow-colored and everywhere it touches an apple tree grows."

"Really?"

"What? No!" He could feel a migraine coming on. "Get out," he said, pointing to the ladder. "You're leaving now."

River stared at him sadly.

"You want me to leave?" she asked sadly.

"Yes," Mal snapped. She kept staring at him and he could feel his resolve crumbling. Whenever he snapped at Kaylee and she gave him the puppy dog eyes, he felt like a bad bad man. But this, this was much much much worse.

River looked like he'd told her Santa Claus wasn't real, her birthday was cancelled, and that there was to be no more candy for Halloween ever again. And then hit her dog with train. And then backed up and run over him again. And then laughed. While she watched.

"Oh, don't cry," he tried, seeing her eyes watering. She stared at him, tears welling up, and sniffled. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, patting her awkwardly on the arm. A tear trickled down her face. "You don't have to go," he said desperately, hoping to god she wouldn't start crying hysterically and bring the whole boat running.

He needn't have worried. At his words her whole face lit up and the tears vanished. She beamed up at him brightly, and he felt himself smile back.

"There, see? Ain't no need for crying." She giggled and kept staring at him, snickering quietly to herself.

"What?" he said, beginning to feel slightly self-conscious. He'd just let the girl stay in his bunk, shouldn't she maybe not be laughing at him?

"School is fun," she told him, still giggling softly. He frowned, confused by why she would be laughing at this.

"Well, you being a genius and all I guess it might be. Didn't much like it myself though." She tilted her head to the side, still giggling softly.

"You won't like this one either. Too many rules, too much stuff to learn in too little time. Don't worry, I'll help. Just don't bring any apples, they have grenades."

Filing away her comment on the apples for later worry, Mal leaned forward and grabbed her shoulders, terror gripping him as a sudden thought crossed his mind.

"This school?" he managed. River giggled again, grinning up at him.

"Can't tell, it's a secret."

"Oh yes, you most certainly can tell," Mal said quickly. River frowned up at him and shook her head, eyes still sparkling.

"Se-cret," she stressed. "Can't tell…can show?" Mal nodded, already getting up.

"Oh yes, can show. Most definitely. Up you get, come along little crazy girl. Show me your secret school."

River jumped up and danced up the ladder, vibrating in place as she waited for him to make his far more ungainly climb up to join her. When he arrived she grabbed his hand and danced down the corridors towards the kitchen, bare feet making no sound on the floor.

As they got closer, Mal realized the lights were on and there were the sounds of people softly talking emanating from the room. He turned to look at River, but she just smiled and shoved him forwards, sending him tripping over the doorframe and flying into the room.

He stumbled, caught himself, and looked up into the eyes of Inara and Simon. They were both seated at the kitchen table, a variety of pens, paper, two cortexes, and four cups of tea spread out on the tabletop.

Simon gave him a nervous smile and took a nervous gulp of tea, but Inara just gave him a serene smile and a small nod. River skipped around him and joined Simon at the table, looking like the proverbial cat that ate the canary.

"Oh," said Mal, his brain finally giving up and letting in the blood-chilling thought from earlier, a thought he had been valiantly fighting off. "This school."

From her perch at the table, River let out a peal of hysterical laughter. It sounded rather like the devil would after he had just signed the deal handing over his soul.

And taking in the three faces before him (River's delighted, Inara's serene, and Simon's shell-shocked horror-filled one) he rather felt he would prefer that.

A/N: I know this chapter wasn't very long, but never fear, they will be getting longer and more plot-oriented. And because I recently realized I don't write disclaimers (whoops!) I don't own anything. Except the unicorns. And not even those. But if you want one, ask North Korea. (I don't know if they sing love songs though, it may cost extra).