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F: Wooden Horses (1)
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: eventual Mal/Simon, eventual Jayne/Kaylee, referenced past Simon/Kaylee, referenced Mal/Inara as in canon
Warnings: Deathfic, angst
Rating: PG (later chapters NC17)
Summary: When something gets taken from you, you have to take it back. (1/10)
Note: Beta'd, essentially, by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
feywood. Thanks, dear heart.
Inara hears them coming: the quick footsteps, the catch of breath as the girl pauses to compose herself outside the door. She imagines that even in haste her young student remained as graceful as ever, and the thought makes her smile a little. She sits up a little straighter and speaks before the curtain even rustles. "Yes?"
Whoever it is hesitates at the door, taking another audible deep breath. "There's a ship requesting to land. A cargo ship. Name of Serenity."
Inara's lips mouth his name, slowly, but she doesn't say it aloud: 'Mal'. And then, still without turning, already pulling the mask back over her features, she nods, slightly, gracefully, as if she's trying to balance a dish of water on her head without spilling a drop. Just as she was taught. She can't be simply Inara any more, even with him. Especially not with him. And especially not her students -- who should know to mask their emotions and keep even that quick sharp breath a secret. No scolding now, though. "Let them land. You know they're friends of mine."
"That's the thing. The captain said... 'Tell her it's Captain Simon Tam, and that I'm sorry she has to find out this way.' I thought..."
Fear takes a hold of her heart and squeezes, hard. "Not Captain Malcolm Reynolds? Not Captain Zoe Washburne?"
But there can be no mistake. She shakes her head, shakes her question away. There'll be time for questions later, and time for grief, if grief is necessary. It could just be a ploy, in any case. Perhaps Simon simply needs sanctuary, and this is Mal's way of telling her.
She mustn't prejudge this situation.
"Tell them to land. Tell... the captain to come and speak to me immediately. Just the captain."
The faceless voice doesn't reply, and Inara hears footsteps leaving her room, more hurried than they were before. Only then does she stand up. Her neutral expression feels more forced than ever before, and so much heavier. But she holds onto it, like an anchor, like the last sure thing in the world. And she moves to make some tea.
Nothing in advance. Only waiting. Waiting to know the truth of the situation before she lets herself feel. Those skills got rusty, on Serenity, in the middle of life, in the middle of all those people truly living. She's practiced them back to a ruthless efficiency. Whoever comes will know nothing of how she feels.
It feels like forever and no time at all before footsteps come back along the hall: two sets, now, one masculine, but still light, and the other light with the airy grace she's been training into these girls, barely audible now. She doesn't see the girl's face as the curtain's drawn aside, and then it doesn't matter, because Simon --
"I am sorry you had to find out this way," Simon says. He looks... different. He looks older, grimmer; grief is written deep into his face. His clothes are the same as ever, though -- perhaps more aggressively neat and clean. Every angle of him looks sharper, honed into something newer, more efficient. There's no question, looking at him, about what happened.
"Couldn't you have broken it to me in person?"
"And come when you were expecting Mal? Would that have been any easier a shock?"
He means to be gentle, she realises. He's just forgotten how. Simon, the doctor, the one who always tried to go in with his hands, to touch, to heal, to hold together. He stands there now stiff, his hands at his sides, his expression more closed than she's ever seen it.
"I was operating on him when he died," he says, softly, but every word is razor sharp. "I couldn't save him. Couldn't bring him back. He died with so many things left undone. He -- "
"Simon," she says, gently, wrapping all her grief in the softest cloth, pretending it isn't grief. "Come and sit down. Drink some tea. Tell me about it -- from the beginning."
Slowly, Simon nods. He moves to the table and sits down, though he doesn't relax even a little. He wraps his hands around the cup, as if the small warmth could spread throughout him and ease something. Inara takes out a little bottle and puts just a few drops into his drink. Professional interest sparks in his eyes for just a moment.
"What...?"
"It'll help you relax," she says, and puts it away, deliberately: discussion closed. Simon nods, stiffly.
"It started when River was kidnapped," he says. "We'd just had a job. It went well, for once. It went perfectly. He always said that he should have realised something was going to go wrong, just because that job went so smoothly. But we left Serenity and went to the town to celebrate. Even me and River. And..."
Inara sits quietly. She sits straight up, like there is a steel pole jammed into her spine, and even the most picky of the Guild's teachers would be amazed at the perfection of her posture. Her hands are perfectly steady, her eyes fixed on Simon's face. She has been practising and refining all her fortitude, all her ability to hold back and hold in, for this moment.
---
"Everythin' in there, little Kaylee?"
Kaylee lifted out the last few objects -- bits and pieces of some machine or other -- and ran her fingers over them carefully, turning them this way and that. Her face lit up with a smile after a moment. "Yup. All present and correct, not a mark on 'em. Not even the tiniest scratch or bump."
"It was impressed upon us that we should carry 'em carefully, so that's what we did," Zoe said. She glanced at Mal, who stood there with his arms folded across his chest, trying not to look too pleased. "The townsfolk are quite willin' to play host to our celebrations. Something about being glad about crossin' that rich guy."
"Everyone's glad when someone crosses a rich guy, as long as it's not them doin' the crossing," Mal said, trying for gruff, and failing, but staying just short of smug. "What d'you think? We got time to stay and have a bit of fun?"
"Don't see why not. It'll be a couple of days before the man realises his loss, and I think all of us could do with lettin' off some steam." Zoe pointedly looked up at where, on the catwalk, the two Tams stood. River's hands were curled around the bar, gripping tightly. Simon, beside her, had his most neutral expression on, a thing which didn't fool Mal even a little.
"What is it, son?"
"She says that the wolves are coming," Simon said, quietly, evenly.
Mal tipped his head back a bit to look up at her, to look into River's eyes. "And what do you mean by that, little one?"
"The bad men are coming," she says. Her shoulders move in a slight shrug. "They're coming, with their claws and teeth, to take me away. Poison on their claws."
Mal glanced at Simon. "I thought she was over the need to be terribly obscure?"
"I'll try to find an interpreter," Simon said, dryly. "I just thought you might want to hear her warning."
"I'm Cassandra," River said, quietly. "Cassandra of Troy. River of Serenity. I'm cursed. People don't want to hear what I have to say, what I've seen, so they will it away. I'm just mad Cassandra, mad River. We think the fight is over, take the wooden horse inside our stronghold, but it's carrying disaster in its belly. It will ruin us all. Ajax is coming for me."
"You ain't mad. We just don't know what you're talkin' about. Now come down from there. We're goin' to go and celebrate in the town. Even you and your brother. No need to fret. We'll be takin' good care of you, just like always."
"Drink wine and huddle around the fire while the wolves prowl. Pretend they're not really there," she said, but she hurried down the steps anyway. Simon watched her, something yearning on his face. Then, slowly, he began to follow her.
Didn't keep him from talking, of course. "Do you think it's a good idea? Our... heist might have attracted attention. We're banking on the man not realising his loss for a few days yet, but what if he's paranoid and checks often? What if -- "
Mal held up a hand. "I've thought of all that. I reckon we need a night off, so it might as well be here. No worryin'. Just relax. We'll assume there might be trouble and we'll take our weapons, but don't go anticipating it. Like as not you'll cause it, worryin' so much."
"The villagers seemed sincere in their offer to take care of us for the evenin'," Zoe said, nodding. "Should be fine."
"If Mal and Zoe say it's okay, it's gonna be," Kaylee said, brightly, chipping in at just the right moment. She stood up, stretching a bit and smiling on the Tams. "I heard there was gonna be dancing. How does that sound, River?"
The girl's face didn't really brighten, Mal noted. But she turned on the smile for Kaylee. "We'll take Simon there and make him have fun."
"You bet," Kaylee said, laughing. She took River's hand. "C'mon, Simon. Come down from there and let's go. We'll leave the worrying to Mal and Zoe, okay?"
"It's perfectly safe for now," River said, which seemed to reassure him a bit more. He went down the stairs quickly and joined them -- he touched River lightly, on the shoulder, as if making sure she was there, and then seemed to find some resolve to put his worries aside. He followed River and Kaylee out, joining in their banter with an unexpected comfortableness.
Mal let them get out of sight before he turned to look at Zoe, raising an eyebrow. "What do you make of River's warning, then?"
Zoe shook her head. "I still don't know what I make of River, exactly. I think it's worth being cautious. Girl always knows things she shouldn't, couldn't. This could just be another of those. Or it could be one of those abstruse comments she makes referring to some point in the future that might or might not be relevant. I could swear she's predicted things with an eerie accuracy days before they happen, right down to the body count -- so to speak. But at the same time, sometimes the crazy words are... just crazy words."
Mal sighed and nodded. "That's the trouble, ain't it? Make sure Jayne brings a gun."
"I'll even let him pack a grenade," she said: not laughing, but not far from it. Soon they'd have her acting like a human being again, maybe, though Wash had always been the one to make her smile. Mal smiled back at her, anyway, at the promise of humour.
"He should enjoy that."
---
"You don't look like you're enjoying yourself much."
Simon looked up and tried to smile at Kaylee, who had somehow snuck up on him. "I'm just a little worried." He gestured to River, who was dancing -- her dress and her hair both long and loose, beguiling everyone who looked her way. "She isn't generally wrong. But she seems pretty happy now. As if there's nothing wrong..."
"I'm sure everything'll be alright," Kaylee said. He jumped when she grabbed his hand, quickly withdrawing. She tried not to feel hurt by the way he jumped a mile from her.
"What...?"
"We're going to dance. River can't have got all the talent for it, right?"
"You'd be surprised," Simon muttered. "Can't we just watch?"
"Everybody is dancing, Simon."
Simon looked around quickly and raised an eyebrow. "Zoe isn't. Mal isn't. Jayne... is, but he doesn't count. And I'm not sure even out here on the rim you'd call that dancing."
"They ain't got anyone to dance with, and at least Jayne's having fun. And I don't have anyone to dance with neither, 'less you say yes. So c'mon." She held her hand out. "Don't want to make me a wallflower, right?"
He huffed a sigh. "Is it possible to say no to you?" he asked, letting her take his hand again. "If I step on your toes, you can't say I didn't warn you, okay? I was never a good dancer, and this isn't the style of dancing I'm used to."
"You'll be fine," Kaylee said, laughing. "Top three percent, right? You'll pick it up fast. You're just modest."
Shaking his head, Simon allowed himself to be dragged onto the dance floor. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he said again, but more lightly. She shook her head at him as he moved at first carefully, awkwardly, and then with a bit more sureness as the rhythm caught hold and he had chance to see what everyone else was doing.
"It's too lovely a night to be grumpy. Look at the stars! They look like someone took a handful of light and tossed it up there."
"Now you sound like River," he said, teasingly, and held her hand lightly as he spun her, as they moved further into the dance.
"I think she likes it here more than she'll ever let on," Kaylee said, almost dreamily. "It's not like the core planets, with all the fancy parties and the fancy patterned dancing. She can dance out of the lines here. And the music's simpler. More honest. Made by folks that genuinely love it. Folks that're really alive. They ain't safe, but they're alive and livin' too."
Simon didn't know what to say to that. He just looked over at River, hearing the brightness of her laughter. "She belongs here, I suppose."
"She belongs wherever you are," Kaylee said, softly, more serious. But she was smiling, too. "And you wherever she is."
"Or that," he said, and smiled back at her. Then he spun her in a dizzying circle, to end that conversation where it was, and to make her laugh. For a while, they just danced in a companionable sort of silence: not too close, but not distant either. For a while, he let things be simple.
"Are you having fun?" Kaylee asked, finally, her eyes warm, and Simon laughed.
"I am, but I think I'll hand you over to someone else now." He nodded at someone standing over at the side, watching the dancers. "I think he might like someone to dance with."
Kaylee made a sympathetic noise. "Looks like he's all on his own."
"For now at least," Simon said. Kaylee was already pulling away from him. He had to laugh again.
"Surprised she never takes in little birds or nests of mice, or somesuch," someone said, close to his ear, and he turned to find Mal there, looking amused. "Not that I'd let her even if she took it into her head to do such a thing. I was about to come and rescue you, if you needed it, but it looks like you don't -- nicely done there, by the way. Wanted to ask you about River, either way. She calmed down now? Any more crazy announcements? Or anythin' more clear?"
"She seems fine, now. Happy, even." Simon shook his head, already moving out of the way of the dancers. "And she hasn't said anything more, no."
"Good. Look... I thought she were better? Less prone to that kind of outburst?"
"When it comes to her unique abilities, I'm not sure she'll ever make sense to us. She's probably as lucid now as she'll ever be, really. Sometimes the trick is just in knowing what she's referencing. This time it was the epics. The Iliad, I think, or the first part of the Aeneid. The comparison of herself to Cassandra makes some sense, considering, if you make Apollo a metaphor for the Alliance, and... Well, I forgot, you probably don't know -- "
"I know the story a little," Mal said, giving Simon a sharp look. "We do have schools on the rim, you know, and even I didn't skip every day. I see what she means. If she could only speak plain, we'd be able to do more 'bout the things she says, but..."
Simon just nodded. "I know. But she can't seem to be more plain. I just hope she wasn't telling us something important."
"Well, at least we know not to bring wooden horses inside Serenity now," Mal said, smirking slightly. He leaned back against a stack of crates, facing away from the bright whirl of colours and people. "I thought you and Kaylee were over."
"We are. That doesn't mean we can't be friends. Particularly on a boat as small as Serenity, where it's not possible to avoid each other. And apparently, it doesn't mean she can't make me dance with her."
"I thought she'd be... less happy about it. Breaking up with you, I mean."
Simon sighed. He turned to look, across the area, at her dancing. She was with a young, awkward boy -- perhaps the one he'd pointed out earlier; he hadn't paid that much attention. Her face was an open book, bright and happy. River, near her, was the same. They fit there, with the other dancers. "So did I, but... this is Kaylee. She'd forgive anyone anything. I wouldn't say she was happy about it, though."
Mal made a noise that might have been a snort. "Can't imagine you doing much that'd need to be forgiven."
Simon shrugged. He chose his words carefully, not quite looking at Mal. "My father's faults were coldness and distance, and a constant preoccupation with other things. He was very kind to my mother, but it was something he was supposed to do, I think, not something he wanted. Our family always emphasised duty."
"I imagine anyone can be passionate with the right person," Mal said, softly -- almost involuntarily, it seemed -- and then he straightened. "Come on. Let's get ourselves a drink or two, or we'll be the only sober ones here in an hour's time."
"That's not as terrible a fate as you make it sound."
"Terrible enough," Mal said, with an easy grin. "Besides, I can't figure out where Zoe's gone. Might be she's over there hoggin' the alcohol."
He was turning, to go across to where alcohol was being liberally shared round. He might even have started in that direction. But then there was a scream.
Mal swore. And then he moved, really moved, and Simon ran after, but they seemed so slow -- they were far too slow, and Simon saw River's hands reaching toward him, her eyes wild in her pale face, and he saw the injection, and he saw her go down. And then time resumed its usual pace and River was in the arms of a man, and Zoe was there -- where had she come from? -- fighting, struggling against another man who came up behind her, and Mal was still running towards them. There was a blur of movement that was Jayne, and a moment, an opening, and if he'd had a gun --
Another scream. Kaylee, this time, blood welling up between her fingers as she reeled back in pain. Just her arm, and he knew already that she'd live, for all that the blood spurted out like a red fountain, as long as he got there and took care of it. Mal swerved to grab at her, to see if she was alright, and Simon couldn't see River anymore.
Zoe was gone, too.
Jayne was running after them. Simon felt dizzy, disorientated. He stumbled and fell down on his knees next to Kaylee, and then, because he was there, he tugged her hand away from her arm and started to examine the wound. "With poison on their claws," Kaylee whispered to him. "What River said. They injected her with something."
"Metaphors," Simon said, from what felt like a very long way away. "Not really poison."
"Something to take the fight right out of her," Kaylee said, nodding. Her face was pale and sweaty. Simon stroked her hair back from it carefully. River was gone, but Kaylee was right here and hurting, and Jayne had gone after River, and Mal probably had, and he could do something about this. He knew enough to know that there was no way he could catch up with River, and that Mal would do anything to help a member of his crew.
It was hard, but he stayed where he was.
"You're going to be alright," he promised Kaylee. He looked for something to use as a bandage, something to soak up all the blood. He'd use his shirt -- who cared about a shirt at a time like this? Not even him -- but he wouldn't have been able to rip it easily for bandages.
"Of course I am. You're here," she said, and she smiled, but the warmth of it didn't reach him.
"That didn't help River."
"Zoe's with her," someone else said -- Mal, it had to be Mal: he hadn't run off after River, after all -- "and Jayne ran after them. She'll be fine. You just focus on Kaylee now, doc. Get her fixed up."
"Who was it?"
"That boy," Kaylee said, with a little gasped gulp of a laugh, the kind that meant nothing was really funny at all. "The one I was dancing with."
"Wooden horses," Simon muttered.
"What?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Has anyone got anything I can use for bandages?"
"Here," someone else said -- a new voice, it was: a woman's, sharp and capable. Simon took the bundle of bandages she offered him and focused again on Kaylee's arm: on cleaning, on binding. It was a task he'd grown to know well, one he'd got used to doing out there, as a member of Serenity's crew, and it brought him back to the moment properly, made everything feel just that little bit more real. He took a deep breath when he was done, like coming up from underwater, and looked up to meet Mal's eyes.
"It's not a bad wound," he said, softly. "Zoe? Jayne? River?"
"No sign of 'em. Jayne went after 'em like a bat out of hell though. They've got guns, the three of 'em."
Simon bit back the bitter words that came to mind instantly. He stood up, instead, looking around at the village. Some of the bright torches had gone out, and people were milling around now -- there was no more music, and no more dancing. The light flickered irritatingly over the ground. Simon took two steps away from Kaylee and bent down to pick something up.
"Zoe hasn't got a gun," he said, quietly. There was a ringing in his ears, but he still heard Mal's curse. "And River wasn't carrying a weapon, apart from one knife in her boot."
"Girl's a weapon in herself," Mal said. That might have been meant to be reassuring, but Simon gave him a hard look for it. He might have said more, but he saw something else that Mal hadn't noticed yet.
"Jayne's coming back. Alone."
Another curse. "Simon -- "
"Let's see what he has to say." Distance, again.
Kaylee got to her feet, slowly, still cradling her arm gingerly. "Is he okay?"
"He doesn't look to be bleeding," Mal said, grimly. "Jayne!"
Jayne was walking by the time he reached them. He'd already caught his breath, but he sounded breathless anyway, and he wouldn't look at Simon. "I ran after them. Couldn' catch up, for all that they were draggin' River and Zoe along. Saw them get into a shuttle and take off and then there was nothing I could do, so I came back."
Simon clenched his fists. "You didn't help River and Zoe?"
"Couldn't," Jayne said, and did meet his eyes then. "I would've if I could, honest to God."
"Of course you would've," Kaylee said, softly. She turned to Mal. Strain made her voice tight, like she was fighting tears. "What're we gonna do?"
Mal was looking up at the sky, as if he could track the passing of that shuttle. "Chase 'em. Get our people back, and a little vengeance besides. What else?"
"How can we -- "
"The only other ship around this planet was a small transport ship," Simon said, softly. "According to River, anyway. The Magpie. It was what triggered her... episode. She was looking at something on the cortex about it, and then..."
Mal gave him a piercing look. "Could be you should have told us that."
"It didn't seem that important, at the time. Magpies don't generally have much to do with Troy. All she said was 'good evening, Mr. Magpie', and then... I thought it was just her making strange connections again. I didn't think... Even now I don't understand her, I..."
"It ain't your fault, Simon," Kaylee said. She looked up at Mal, her eyes serious. "If it weren't for Simon, we wouldn't know even this much. No need to go parcelling out blame. We need to get ready to go."
"Just the four of you?" someone said, disbelievingly. It was the women from before, the one who'd handed Simon bandages. "Just the four of you, runnin' off after a ship that's taken a good third of your crew, an' one of you injured? It ain't sane. Can't hardly pilot the ship with just you four. You need to -- "
"We need to be gone already," Jayne growled, cutting her off. Kaylee smiled and nodded agreement.
"Jayne's right. This is something we'll do alone. Keepin' family affairs to the family, so to speak. But thanks for your concern!"
"They said it," Mal agreed. He glanced at Simon. "You in agreement, doc?"
Wordless, Simon just nodded.
Pairing: eventual Mal/Simon, eventual Jayne/Kaylee, referenced past Simon/Kaylee, referenced Mal/Inara as in canon
Warnings: Deathfic, angst
Rating: PG (later chapters NC17)
Summary: When something gets taken from you, you have to take it back. (1/10)
Note: Beta'd, essentially, by
feywood. Thanks, dear heart.Inara hears them coming: the quick footsteps, the catch of breath as the girl pauses to compose herself outside the door. She imagines that even in haste her young student remained as graceful as ever, and the thought makes her smile a little. She sits up a little straighter and speaks before the curtain even rustles. "Yes?"
Whoever it is hesitates at the door, taking another audible deep breath. "There's a ship requesting to land. A cargo ship. Name of Serenity."
Inara's lips mouth his name, slowly, but she doesn't say it aloud: 'Mal'. And then, still without turning, already pulling the mask back over her features, she nods, slightly, gracefully, as if she's trying to balance a dish of water on her head without spilling a drop. Just as she was taught. She can't be simply Inara any more, even with him. Especially not with him. And especially not her students -- who should know to mask their emotions and keep even that quick sharp breath a secret. No scolding now, though. "Let them land. You know they're friends of mine."
"That's the thing. The captain said... 'Tell her it's Captain Simon Tam, and that I'm sorry she has to find out this way.' I thought..."
Fear takes a hold of her heart and squeezes, hard. "Not Captain Malcolm Reynolds? Not Captain Zoe Washburne?"
But there can be no mistake. She shakes her head, shakes her question away. There'll be time for questions later, and time for grief, if grief is necessary. It could just be a ploy, in any case. Perhaps Simon simply needs sanctuary, and this is Mal's way of telling her.
She mustn't prejudge this situation.
"Tell them to land. Tell... the captain to come and speak to me immediately. Just the captain."
The faceless voice doesn't reply, and Inara hears footsteps leaving her room, more hurried than they were before. Only then does she stand up. Her neutral expression feels more forced than ever before, and so much heavier. But she holds onto it, like an anchor, like the last sure thing in the world. And she moves to make some tea.
Nothing in advance. Only waiting. Waiting to know the truth of the situation before she lets herself feel. Those skills got rusty, on Serenity, in the middle of life, in the middle of all those people truly living. She's practiced them back to a ruthless efficiency. Whoever comes will know nothing of how she feels.
It feels like forever and no time at all before footsteps come back along the hall: two sets, now, one masculine, but still light, and the other light with the airy grace she's been training into these girls, barely audible now. She doesn't see the girl's face as the curtain's drawn aside, and then it doesn't matter, because Simon --
"I am sorry you had to find out this way," Simon says. He looks... different. He looks older, grimmer; grief is written deep into his face. His clothes are the same as ever, though -- perhaps more aggressively neat and clean. Every angle of him looks sharper, honed into something newer, more efficient. There's no question, looking at him, about what happened.
"Couldn't you have broken it to me in person?"
"And come when you were expecting Mal? Would that have been any easier a shock?"
He means to be gentle, she realises. He's just forgotten how. Simon, the doctor, the one who always tried to go in with his hands, to touch, to heal, to hold together. He stands there now stiff, his hands at his sides, his expression more closed than she's ever seen it.
"I was operating on him when he died," he says, softly, but every word is razor sharp. "I couldn't save him. Couldn't bring him back. He died with so many things left undone. He -- "
"Simon," she says, gently, wrapping all her grief in the softest cloth, pretending it isn't grief. "Come and sit down. Drink some tea. Tell me about it -- from the beginning."
Slowly, Simon nods. He moves to the table and sits down, though he doesn't relax even a little. He wraps his hands around the cup, as if the small warmth could spread throughout him and ease something. Inara takes out a little bottle and puts just a few drops into his drink. Professional interest sparks in his eyes for just a moment.
"What...?"
"It'll help you relax," she says, and puts it away, deliberately: discussion closed. Simon nods, stiffly.
"It started when River was kidnapped," he says. "We'd just had a job. It went well, for once. It went perfectly. He always said that he should have realised something was going to go wrong, just because that job went so smoothly. But we left Serenity and went to the town to celebrate. Even me and River. And..."
Inara sits quietly. She sits straight up, like there is a steel pole jammed into her spine, and even the most picky of the Guild's teachers would be amazed at the perfection of her posture. Her hands are perfectly steady, her eyes fixed on Simon's face. She has been practising and refining all her fortitude, all her ability to hold back and hold in, for this moment.
"Everythin' in there, little Kaylee?"
Kaylee lifted out the last few objects -- bits and pieces of some machine or other -- and ran her fingers over them carefully, turning them this way and that. Her face lit up with a smile after a moment. "Yup. All present and correct, not a mark on 'em. Not even the tiniest scratch or bump."
"It was impressed upon us that we should carry 'em carefully, so that's what we did," Zoe said. She glanced at Mal, who stood there with his arms folded across his chest, trying not to look too pleased. "The townsfolk are quite willin' to play host to our celebrations. Something about being glad about crossin' that rich guy."
"Everyone's glad when someone crosses a rich guy, as long as it's not them doin' the crossing," Mal said, trying for gruff, and failing, but staying just short of smug. "What d'you think? We got time to stay and have a bit of fun?"
"Don't see why not. It'll be a couple of days before the man realises his loss, and I think all of us could do with lettin' off some steam." Zoe pointedly looked up at where, on the catwalk, the two Tams stood. River's hands were curled around the bar, gripping tightly. Simon, beside her, had his most neutral expression on, a thing which didn't fool Mal even a little.
"What is it, son?"
"She says that the wolves are coming," Simon said, quietly, evenly.
Mal tipped his head back a bit to look up at her, to look into River's eyes. "And what do you mean by that, little one?"
"The bad men are coming," she says. Her shoulders move in a slight shrug. "They're coming, with their claws and teeth, to take me away. Poison on their claws."
Mal glanced at Simon. "I thought she was over the need to be terribly obscure?"
"I'll try to find an interpreter," Simon said, dryly. "I just thought you might want to hear her warning."
"I'm Cassandra," River said, quietly. "Cassandra of Troy. River of Serenity. I'm cursed. People don't want to hear what I have to say, what I've seen, so they will it away. I'm just mad Cassandra, mad River. We think the fight is over, take the wooden horse inside our stronghold, but it's carrying disaster in its belly. It will ruin us all. Ajax is coming for me."
"You ain't mad. We just don't know what you're talkin' about. Now come down from there. We're goin' to go and celebrate in the town. Even you and your brother. No need to fret. We'll be takin' good care of you, just like always."
"Drink wine and huddle around the fire while the wolves prowl. Pretend they're not really there," she said, but she hurried down the steps anyway. Simon watched her, something yearning on his face. Then, slowly, he began to follow her.
Didn't keep him from talking, of course. "Do you think it's a good idea? Our... heist might have attracted attention. We're banking on the man not realising his loss for a few days yet, but what if he's paranoid and checks often? What if -- "
Mal held up a hand. "I've thought of all that. I reckon we need a night off, so it might as well be here. No worryin'. Just relax. We'll assume there might be trouble and we'll take our weapons, but don't go anticipating it. Like as not you'll cause it, worryin' so much."
"The villagers seemed sincere in their offer to take care of us for the evenin'," Zoe said, nodding. "Should be fine."
"If Mal and Zoe say it's okay, it's gonna be," Kaylee said, brightly, chipping in at just the right moment. She stood up, stretching a bit and smiling on the Tams. "I heard there was gonna be dancing. How does that sound, River?"
The girl's face didn't really brighten, Mal noted. But she turned on the smile for Kaylee. "We'll take Simon there and make him have fun."
"You bet," Kaylee said, laughing. She took River's hand. "C'mon, Simon. Come down from there and let's go. We'll leave the worrying to Mal and Zoe, okay?"
"It's perfectly safe for now," River said, which seemed to reassure him a bit more. He went down the stairs quickly and joined them -- he touched River lightly, on the shoulder, as if making sure she was there, and then seemed to find some resolve to put his worries aside. He followed River and Kaylee out, joining in their banter with an unexpected comfortableness.
Mal let them get out of sight before he turned to look at Zoe, raising an eyebrow. "What do you make of River's warning, then?"
Zoe shook her head. "I still don't know what I make of River, exactly. I think it's worth being cautious. Girl always knows things she shouldn't, couldn't. This could just be another of those. Or it could be one of those abstruse comments she makes referring to some point in the future that might or might not be relevant. I could swear she's predicted things with an eerie accuracy days before they happen, right down to the body count -- so to speak. But at the same time, sometimes the crazy words are... just crazy words."
Mal sighed and nodded. "That's the trouble, ain't it? Make sure Jayne brings a gun."
"I'll even let him pack a grenade," she said: not laughing, but not far from it. Soon they'd have her acting like a human being again, maybe, though Wash had always been the one to make her smile. Mal smiled back at her, anyway, at the promise of humour.
"He should enjoy that."
"You don't look like you're enjoying yourself much."
Simon looked up and tried to smile at Kaylee, who had somehow snuck up on him. "I'm just a little worried." He gestured to River, who was dancing -- her dress and her hair both long and loose, beguiling everyone who looked her way. "She isn't generally wrong. But she seems pretty happy now. As if there's nothing wrong..."
"I'm sure everything'll be alright," Kaylee said. He jumped when she grabbed his hand, quickly withdrawing. She tried not to feel hurt by the way he jumped a mile from her.
"What...?"
"We're going to dance. River can't have got all the talent for it, right?"
"You'd be surprised," Simon muttered. "Can't we just watch?"
"Everybody is dancing, Simon."
Simon looked around quickly and raised an eyebrow. "Zoe isn't. Mal isn't. Jayne... is, but he doesn't count. And I'm not sure even out here on the rim you'd call that dancing."
"They ain't got anyone to dance with, and at least Jayne's having fun. And I don't have anyone to dance with neither, 'less you say yes. So c'mon." She held her hand out. "Don't want to make me a wallflower, right?"
He huffed a sigh. "Is it possible to say no to you?" he asked, letting her take his hand again. "If I step on your toes, you can't say I didn't warn you, okay? I was never a good dancer, and this isn't the style of dancing I'm used to."
"You'll be fine," Kaylee said, laughing. "Top three percent, right? You'll pick it up fast. You're just modest."
Shaking his head, Simon allowed himself to be dragged onto the dance floor. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he said again, but more lightly. She shook her head at him as he moved at first carefully, awkwardly, and then with a bit more sureness as the rhythm caught hold and he had chance to see what everyone else was doing.
"It's too lovely a night to be grumpy. Look at the stars! They look like someone took a handful of light and tossed it up there."
"Now you sound like River," he said, teasingly, and held her hand lightly as he spun her, as they moved further into the dance.
"I think she likes it here more than she'll ever let on," Kaylee said, almost dreamily. "It's not like the core planets, with all the fancy parties and the fancy patterned dancing. She can dance out of the lines here. And the music's simpler. More honest. Made by folks that genuinely love it. Folks that're really alive. They ain't safe, but they're alive and livin' too."
Simon didn't know what to say to that. He just looked over at River, hearing the brightness of her laughter. "She belongs here, I suppose."
"She belongs wherever you are," Kaylee said, softly, more serious. But she was smiling, too. "And you wherever she is."
"Or that," he said, and smiled back at her. Then he spun her in a dizzying circle, to end that conversation where it was, and to make her laugh. For a while, they just danced in a companionable sort of silence: not too close, but not distant either. For a while, he let things be simple.
"Are you having fun?" Kaylee asked, finally, her eyes warm, and Simon laughed.
"I am, but I think I'll hand you over to someone else now." He nodded at someone standing over at the side, watching the dancers. "I think he might like someone to dance with."
Kaylee made a sympathetic noise. "Looks like he's all on his own."
"For now at least," Simon said. Kaylee was already pulling away from him. He had to laugh again.
"Surprised she never takes in little birds or nests of mice, or somesuch," someone said, close to his ear, and he turned to find Mal there, looking amused. "Not that I'd let her even if she took it into her head to do such a thing. I was about to come and rescue you, if you needed it, but it looks like you don't -- nicely done there, by the way. Wanted to ask you about River, either way. She calmed down now? Any more crazy announcements? Or anythin' more clear?"
"She seems fine, now. Happy, even." Simon shook his head, already moving out of the way of the dancers. "And she hasn't said anything more, no."
"Good. Look... I thought she were better? Less prone to that kind of outburst?"
"When it comes to her unique abilities, I'm not sure she'll ever make sense to us. She's probably as lucid now as she'll ever be, really. Sometimes the trick is just in knowing what she's referencing. This time it was the epics. The Iliad, I think, or the first part of the Aeneid. The comparison of herself to Cassandra makes some sense, considering, if you make Apollo a metaphor for the Alliance, and... Well, I forgot, you probably don't know -- "
"I know the story a little," Mal said, giving Simon a sharp look. "We do have schools on the rim, you know, and even I didn't skip every day. I see what she means. If she could only speak plain, we'd be able to do more 'bout the things she says, but..."
Simon just nodded. "I know. But she can't seem to be more plain. I just hope she wasn't telling us something important."
"Well, at least we know not to bring wooden horses inside Serenity now," Mal said, smirking slightly. He leaned back against a stack of crates, facing away from the bright whirl of colours and people. "I thought you and Kaylee were over."
"We are. That doesn't mean we can't be friends. Particularly on a boat as small as Serenity, where it's not possible to avoid each other. And apparently, it doesn't mean she can't make me dance with her."
"I thought she'd be... less happy about it. Breaking up with you, I mean."
Simon sighed. He turned to look, across the area, at her dancing. She was with a young, awkward boy -- perhaps the one he'd pointed out earlier; he hadn't paid that much attention. Her face was an open book, bright and happy. River, near her, was the same. They fit there, with the other dancers. "So did I, but... this is Kaylee. She'd forgive anyone anything. I wouldn't say she was happy about it, though."
Mal made a noise that might have been a snort. "Can't imagine you doing much that'd need to be forgiven."
Simon shrugged. He chose his words carefully, not quite looking at Mal. "My father's faults were coldness and distance, and a constant preoccupation with other things. He was very kind to my mother, but it was something he was supposed to do, I think, not something he wanted. Our family always emphasised duty."
"I imagine anyone can be passionate with the right person," Mal said, softly -- almost involuntarily, it seemed -- and then he straightened. "Come on. Let's get ourselves a drink or two, or we'll be the only sober ones here in an hour's time."
"That's not as terrible a fate as you make it sound."
"Terrible enough," Mal said, with an easy grin. "Besides, I can't figure out where Zoe's gone. Might be she's over there hoggin' the alcohol."
He was turning, to go across to where alcohol was being liberally shared round. He might even have started in that direction. But then there was a scream.
Mal swore. And then he moved, really moved, and Simon ran after, but they seemed so slow -- they were far too slow, and Simon saw River's hands reaching toward him, her eyes wild in her pale face, and he saw the injection, and he saw her go down. And then time resumed its usual pace and River was in the arms of a man, and Zoe was there -- where had she come from? -- fighting, struggling against another man who came up behind her, and Mal was still running towards them. There was a blur of movement that was Jayne, and a moment, an opening, and if he'd had a gun --
Another scream. Kaylee, this time, blood welling up between her fingers as she reeled back in pain. Just her arm, and he knew already that she'd live, for all that the blood spurted out like a red fountain, as long as he got there and took care of it. Mal swerved to grab at her, to see if she was alright, and Simon couldn't see River anymore.
Zoe was gone, too.
Jayne was running after them. Simon felt dizzy, disorientated. He stumbled and fell down on his knees next to Kaylee, and then, because he was there, he tugged her hand away from her arm and started to examine the wound. "With poison on their claws," Kaylee whispered to him. "What River said. They injected her with something."
"Metaphors," Simon said, from what felt like a very long way away. "Not really poison."
"Something to take the fight right out of her," Kaylee said, nodding. Her face was pale and sweaty. Simon stroked her hair back from it carefully. River was gone, but Kaylee was right here and hurting, and Jayne had gone after River, and Mal probably had, and he could do something about this. He knew enough to know that there was no way he could catch up with River, and that Mal would do anything to help a member of his crew.
It was hard, but he stayed where he was.
"You're going to be alright," he promised Kaylee. He looked for something to use as a bandage, something to soak up all the blood. He'd use his shirt -- who cared about a shirt at a time like this? Not even him -- but he wouldn't have been able to rip it easily for bandages.
"Of course I am. You're here," she said, and she smiled, but the warmth of it didn't reach him.
"That didn't help River."
"Zoe's with her," someone else said -- Mal, it had to be Mal: he hadn't run off after River, after all -- "and Jayne ran after them. She'll be fine. You just focus on Kaylee now, doc. Get her fixed up."
"Who was it?"
"That boy," Kaylee said, with a little gasped gulp of a laugh, the kind that meant nothing was really funny at all. "The one I was dancing with."
"Wooden horses," Simon muttered.
"What?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Has anyone got anything I can use for bandages?"
"Here," someone else said -- a new voice, it was: a woman's, sharp and capable. Simon took the bundle of bandages she offered him and focused again on Kaylee's arm: on cleaning, on binding. It was a task he'd grown to know well, one he'd got used to doing out there, as a member of Serenity's crew, and it brought him back to the moment properly, made everything feel just that little bit more real. He took a deep breath when he was done, like coming up from underwater, and looked up to meet Mal's eyes.
"It's not a bad wound," he said, softly. "Zoe? Jayne? River?"
"No sign of 'em. Jayne went after 'em like a bat out of hell though. They've got guns, the three of 'em."
Simon bit back the bitter words that came to mind instantly. He stood up, instead, looking around at the village. Some of the bright torches had gone out, and people were milling around now -- there was no more music, and no more dancing. The light flickered irritatingly over the ground. Simon took two steps away from Kaylee and bent down to pick something up.
"Zoe hasn't got a gun," he said, quietly. There was a ringing in his ears, but he still heard Mal's curse. "And River wasn't carrying a weapon, apart from one knife in her boot."
"Girl's a weapon in herself," Mal said. That might have been meant to be reassuring, but Simon gave him a hard look for it. He might have said more, but he saw something else that Mal hadn't noticed yet.
"Jayne's coming back. Alone."
Another curse. "Simon -- "
"Let's see what he has to say." Distance, again.
Kaylee got to her feet, slowly, still cradling her arm gingerly. "Is he okay?"
"He doesn't look to be bleeding," Mal said, grimly. "Jayne!"
Jayne was walking by the time he reached them. He'd already caught his breath, but he sounded breathless anyway, and he wouldn't look at Simon. "I ran after them. Couldn' catch up, for all that they were draggin' River and Zoe along. Saw them get into a shuttle and take off and then there was nothing I could do, so I came back."
Simon clenched his fists. "You didn't help River and Zoe?"
"Couldn't," Jayne said, and did meet his eyes then. "I would've if I could, honest to God."
"Of course you would've," Kaylee said, softly. She turned to Mal. Strain made her voice tight, like she was fighting tears. "What're we gonna do?"
Mal was looking up at the sky, as if he could track the passing of that shuttle. "Chase 'em. Get our people back, and a little vengeance besides. What else?"
"How can we -- "
"The only other ship around this planet was a small transport ship," Simon said, softly. "According to River, anyway. The Magpie. It was what triggered her... episode. She was looking at something on the cortex about it, and then..."
Mal gave him a piercing look. "Could be you should have told us that."
"It didn't seem that important, at the time. Magpies don't generally have much to do with Troy. All she said was 'good evening, Mr. Magpie', and then... I thought it was just her making strange connections again. I didn't think... Even now I don't understand her, I..."
"It ain't your fault, Simon," Kaylee said. She looked up at Mal, her eyes serious. "If it weren't for Simon, we wouldn't know even this much. No need to go parcelling out blame. We need to get ready to go."
"Just the four of you?" someone said, disbelievingly. It was the women from before, the one who'd handed Simon bandages. "Just the four of you, runnin' off after a ship that's taken a good third of your crew, an' one of you injured? It ain't sane. Can't hardly pilot the ship with just you four. You need to -- "
"We need to be gone already," Jayne growled, cutting her off. Kaylee smiled and nodded agreement.
"Jayne's right. This is something we'll do alone. Keepin' family affairs to the family, so to speak. But thanks for your concern!"
"They said it," Mal agreed. He glanced at Simon. "You in agreement, doc?"
Wordless, Simon just nodded.
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I loved your Inara portrayal, to be a little more coherent. But then again, I always do. :P
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Ahaha. Pity she only comes in at the end, then! Well, the beginning. Which is the end.
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I can't wait for more hun. :)
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Jayne... is, but he doesn't count. And I'm not sure even out here on the rim you'd call that dancing."
And this line was brilliant. :)
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Thanks.
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I really like the classical references, and I VERY much like the way that the voices are separated out - how distinct River is from Jayne, from Mal, from Kaylee, from Simon. It's gorgeously done.
And ow, my heart. Captain Simon Tam. Whyyyyy.
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Heee. I've been working on voices for a while, but it wasn't as conscious a process with this fic, so I'm glad it's still coming out.