As with a lot of my one-shot stories, this too arose out of a sense of dis-satisfaction. I loathe the fact that I am becoming a fanfic writer who is being motivated to write certain things solely by the interest shown by reviews; but frankly, I have no choice. With, amongst other things a 16 week old baby and working six days a week I simply don't have the time to devote to things for which the encouragement I get is lukewarm - thus, those of you who read Man of Misunderstandings, will have to wait until I get a little more time on my hands.
That being said, I could no more cut my arm off than I could stop writing, so what we get is short fics like this and Santa Cobb, which are attached to the Man of Misunderstandings Universe but which also allow me to play with random ideas - and some of the inferences in this fic are pretty random' one aspect being prompted by a review to a Buffy short-fic I wrote, BUffy fans will spot the influence.
This fic, in some ways, also marks a return to some of my more long-winded, playing with words fics/ chapters - I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself.
No beta on this, all mistakes are my own.
Finally, two things, please read and review and this is for my little guy, Malachi - who takes up my time so I can't write.
"I appreciate the fact that this draft was done in haste, but some of
the sentences that you are sending out in the world to do your work for
you are loitering in taverns or asleep beside the highway."
-- Dr. Dwight Van de Vate, Professor of Philosophy,--University of Tennessee at Knoxville
The shop was on a side-street; actually more of a one-way alley off the back-end of a seldom-used by-pass to a thoroughfare that may, at some point, have constituted a side-street by very generous use of the term. In fact it was the time of destination that was generally indicated on maps from times past by the sobriquet 'Here be dragons'.
Now, not so much with the dragons but rapist, murderers, gangs and persons of dubious moral character were the area's common ilk and even their presence was overshadowed the by presence of the Law Society's offices that dominated the district with an omnipresent penumbra of ill-intent.
Yet the shop appeared untouched by this.
Actually, the shop appeared somewhat over the whole location; its recessed door resembling a yawn as much as a portal, suggesting that it had found the repeated attempts, by the criminal fraternity, to obtain entry ineffably tiresome.
"It wants a challenge,' noted River Tam, her eyes alight with pleasure as she stared at the building.
"Of course it does", murmured her companion, his serious eyes more interested in the assorted of eyes that peered out from various nooks and crannies clearly assessing the pair's potential victim status. Jayne Cobb allowed himself a slight smile; he could almost hear the suppressed conversations that mentally composed a balance sheet comprising slim, small, harmless woman and large, scary, heavily-armed man and the various pros and cons that went with such.
"Are we going to stand outside much longer so you can wave red flags at bulls or can we do something more productive…?"
"…Such as spending your brother's money?"
"Something like that."
Jayne shrugged; it wasn't as if he had anything better to do. It was a public holiday on Bellerophon and would remain so for the rest of the week – old man Doom had mentioned something about a thanksgiving festival although the mercenary-cum-teacher wasn't completely au fait on what was being given thanks for; possibly the presence of sand.
In practical terms, it meant an extended reprieve from the machinations of his abbreviated tormentors; whom had all been informed that they would be rendered down for stock if they tried visiting Serenity during the holiday. Jayne fully expected the prohibition to hold good for about forty-eight hours and hoped to make the most of it with some serious drinking followed by some even more intense sleeping.
The powers that be decided otherwise and, not twelve hours after Jayne had anticipated getting his drunk on, he now found himself escorting the doctor's mad sister about town because 'it wasn't safe for her to be out by herself' – not safe for anyone else Jayne had muttered resentfully before sighing in resignation and went to collect his guns.
Escorting River Tam was akin to tracking a drug-addled bumble bee; sudden, abrupt changes in direction were complimented by apparently meaningless backtracking, mindless circling and the occasional determined dart. It was one of those darts that had landed them here, outside the shop.
The door – clichéd though it may be – creaked open of its own accord, clearly beckoning those who stood without in.
"Rabbit hole?" queried the man.
"Rabbit hole" confirmed the woman.
…And they entered.
If the exterior of the shop had presented an ostensibly utilitarian visage the interior was reminiscent of an extra-dimensional rummage sale, the emptying point for a multitude of extremely undiscriminating singularities; that is, if singularities were wont to appear in Salvation Army stores and second-hand bookshops and siphon off their contents.
"Ohhh look! A doll!" exclaimed River, her hand striking like a snake at the first thing that caught her attention. 'I had dolls when I was a child, but Simon kept taking them off me to practise his surgical techniques." The savant looked puzzled for a moment "I don't think I ever had a doll that talked though … in my head I mean … about the stars … Jayne, do we know anyone called Drusilla?"
"Not that I'm aware of," rumbled the mercenary in distracted response, his attention taken by a fulsomely stacked bookcase. "Of course, it's entirely probable that Mal could have done something stupid before I joined his crew."
"You mean he didn't suddenly become stupid when you signed on?"
"Not according to Wash. You'd be surprised to know that our beloved captain has always been somewhat prone to precipitous, ill-conceived courses of action."
"Never!"
"You need to work on your straight face," Jayne commented absently, already moving in the direction of the previously espied bookcase.
"Can I have the doll?"
"Don't you have enough voices in your head already?"
"It might be a positive influence."
"Charles Manson and Sam the dog would be positive influences in comparison to what you've got rattling around in your skull at present but, and I can't believe I'm saying this, better the devil you know and I'm fairly certain it would be easier on your brother if you didn't add to the Hallelujah chorus; isn't it enough that he's failing to remedy your current set of issues without giving him something else to fail at."
Ignoring the barb directed at her well-meaning, yet largely ineffective, bother, River sighed, somewhat disconsolately, and put the doll down, moving to join her companion at the bookcase.
"Anything interesting?" she queried.
"That would depend on your definition of interesting. For example, the captain would not find anything of interest as none of these books appear to consist solely of pictures."
"Not even that compendium of Doctor Seuss?"
"No, I had a look through it and it appears to be a collection of his philosophical meditations on subjects such as the environment and social hierarchies."
"A pity" River murmured, "I was always partial to his sociologically-sited, epicurean commentary insofar as indigenous culinary manifestations are essential reflections, or indeed refractions, of our own prevailing mores."
"A sound choice," approved the mercenary, "however, as none of those volumes thematically orbit the concept of disembowelled Alliance officers, the captain would show little interest."
"Oooooh look," exclaimed River, "I must get this for Wash."
"What is … oh, 'The Really Large Book of Extremely Large Dinosaurs with Even Bigger Teeth', yes, I imagine Wash will derive a measure of satisfaction from this. I had considered acquiring him a subscription to 'The Journal of Aeolian Botanic Interaction' but I think that a whole lot of pictures of lizards with teeth will be more appealing."
Jayne paused, considering, he was not here to buy presents for the crew; some of them hadn't forgiven him for Christmas although, for some obscure reason, Inara had been delighted with her box of dirt.
"She planted some seeds," commented River, that she had been holding for a long time, "apparently, they require a certain type of soil composition - which you unwittingly provided – that she hadn't been able to find since leaving the motherhouse."
"What have I told you about crawling around in my head?"
"Don't."
"So."
The girl shrugged, "I'm a teenager, what do you expect, miracles?"
"That's possibly the most normal thing I've heard you say."
"I can still kill you with my mind."
Jayne made a shooing motion, "Well go and do it somewhere else, I haven't found anything for myself yet."
River sulked.