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mhalachaiDifferent Eyes part 2/6
by Mhalachai
Rating: PG
Spoilers: All of Firefly, same for Anita Blake.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all things Firefly. Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. I am but borrowing the characters for a brief time and shall return them intact at the end.
Summary: Serenity gets four new passengers and, as usual, things are not as they seem.
~~. Part One .~~ ~~. Part Two .~~ ~~. Part Three .~~ ~~. Part Four .~~ ~~. Part Five .~~ ~~. Part Six .~~
~~*~~
Simon came down the steps to his infirmary slowly, thinking about the little altercation between the new passengers, Anita and Richard. It had seemed like a little lover's spat, but on her way to the engine room, Kaylee told them that the little boy belonged to Anita and the other man. So who was who?
He shook his head. Just a few years ago, back at the hospital, he'd have been above gossip like this. Now he had to look for anything to alleviate the boredom of these long hauls in the cold of space.
Nathaniel and Ashley came around the corner from the passenger bunks, the boy clutching a book to his chest. Simon stopped in the infirmary door. "Are you finding everything all right?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you," Nathaniel said. "It's not a big place to get lost in."
"Not at all," Simon agreed. "Will any of you be needing a doctor's services on the trip?"
It wasn't the most tactful thing he could have said, but his bedside manner had been dulled by the demands of this life on the run.
Nathaniel shook his head. "We're fine. Ashley was having a bit of trouble sleeping last week, but that was probably just being in an unfamiliar place."
"Let me know if you need anything," Simon said. He was about to go into the infirmary when he heard a tiny voice.
"Are you playing a game?" Ashley said, speaking to a hidden area under the stairs.
River, Simon thought. Hiding again.
"It's not a game," River's disembodied voice replied. "It's real. I'm not here."
Ashley laid his book on the floor and crouched down. "What are you hiding from?"
"Dinosaurs."
Ashley frowned, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. "There aren't dinosaurs anymore."
River was quiet for a moment. "They're invisible."
Simon's heart sank. Why did she have to act so crazy like this? The last thing they needed was these new passengers paying close attention to his sister.
Ashley looked around at his father. "Daddy, there are invisible dinosaurs!" he said urgently.
Nathaniel crossed the floor and knelt by the boy. Simon made himself stay where he was. He wouldn't overreact, make a bad situation worse.
"If they're invisible, how are we going to know they're coming?" Nathaniel was saying.
"They smell!" Ashley piped up, clearly getting into River's 'game'. "Like snakes!"
River edged away from her spot under the stairs so she could see the newcomers more easily. "They removed you from the incubator too soon. You're unfinished."
"He's not unfinished, River," Simon said, "he's just young."
"I'm Ashley," the boy said.
"No." River reached a hand out and touched a lock of the boy's black hair. "It's wrong."
"What is?" Nathaniel asked in a voice too calm for a strange girl to be touching his son and spouting nonsense.
River cocked her head to the side, as if she heard words that no one else did. "Hair of gold, heart ice-cold," she said in a distracted voice. She looked at Nathaniel, her expression far away. "You cut your hair. It made her sad."
Simon cast around desperately for an answer to the inevitable question about River's behaviour. But the question never came.
"Yes, it did." Nathaniel gently took River's hand and moved it away from Ashley. "But it needed to be done."
River stared at him for a long minute, then crawled out from under the stairs, like a cat, and arched her back.
Nathaniel handed Ashley the book and lifted up his son. He nodded to Simon, then walked away, keeping a cautious eye on River the entire time.
When father and son had turned the corner at the top of the stairs, Simon crouched by River. "What were you talking about?" he asked, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.
River's gaze was suddenly icy in its clarity. "You wouldn't understand," she said in a condescending voice Simon had been hearing almost since she learned to talk.
"Yes, but you need to be careful," Simon said. "We don't know anything about these people."
"They're safe, Simon. They're Council."
Simon blinked. "What council?"
River rolled her eyes and stood up gracefully. "The Council of vampires." She shook her head as she went up on tiptoe and padded like a cat toward her bunk.
Simon stayed, staring at where River had been. For a moment there, he'd thought River had been making some progress, but then she devolved into ghost stories. He sighed wearily. At least she didn't start on it in front of the guests.
~~*~~
Jayne pushed the door to his bunk shut with a clang. He could smell food, and it didn't smell half bad. Preacher must be cooking, he thought as he headed down the hall.
He met Mal coming down from the bridge. "You want to go check out the hold before we eat?" Mal said, not stopping to get an answer.
Jayne made a face at Mal's retreating back. "Goram captain, thinks he's the boss of everyone," Jayne said to himself as he turned on his heel and trudged down the stairs to the hold.
He stopped on the catwalk. That woman was down there, poking away at that box she'd brought on board. Jayne leaned back against a post to watch her.
She looked mighty fine, Jayne decided. Not all soft and delicate like Inara, but like a solid woman who'd enjoy a good time. It didn't hurt that she had such a tight ass, either.
Tightening one final strap, she looked up at him. A man could fall into those dark eyes. "Can I help you with something?" she asked.
Jayne crossed his arms over his chest. "It's almost dinner," he said. There, he'd been right helpful.
"Right." She bent back over the box.
"So what do you got in there that's so special?" Jayne asked.
"Books."
Jayne turned this one over in his head. It might be books, but he'd seen the way these passengers treated that box. There was some special cargo in that box, something precious. People didn't treat books like that.
While he decided not to say anything, the woman straightened up and slipped her jacket back on. The jacket fit tight under her breasts as she buttoned it up, and Jayne didn't see any reason to look away. She was a damned fine woman. Made him wonder which of the men in the kitchen she was doing.
She finished with her jacket and headed toward the stairs. When she reached the same level as Jayne, she slowed, gave him the once-over, but did not stop. Once she passed him, Jayne smirked and followed her, hanging far enough behind so he could watch her walk.
The kitchen was busier than normal as everyone was putting things on the table. Their way was hampered by a waist-high obstacle that was attempting to carry a plate of bread to the table.
Jayne didn't have anything against kids, just didn't see much use for them out in space. Didn't matter, as long as his mother kept him out from underfoot. Taking his normal chair, Jayne grabbed the pitcher and poured himself some water.
"Sorry about the chairs," the preacher said. "We only seemed to be able to round up enough for the adults."
"Shouldn't have thirteen for supper," River said from the other end of the table. She turned her chair around so the back faced the table, and knelt on the seat. "The intel's wrong."
"Mommy, I put the bread on the plate," the little boy said seriously as everyone sat down.
"Did you? It looks very nice," the woman said, lifting her son onto her lap before pulling her chair close to the table. Her men sat on either side of her, Jayne noted, the younger one keeping a very close eye on her.
Mal reached for a plate of food and it signalled everyone to begin passing around the dishes. The only empty chair at the table was beside Zoe. Wash wasn't there yet. He usually came late to meals.
Jayne handed the bread to Inara, and started eating.
~~*~~
Quiet.
As much as Book liked Serenity and its crew in the day when there was always activity, some of it legitimate, he liked the quiet of night more. Most of the crew were sleeping, and Book was left alone with the hum of the engines and the pressing stillness of space.
He finished his nightly readings and closed his bible. Even with four new passengers on the ship, it was almost as peaceful as it had been in the Abbey.
The kitchen was in order by the time Book headed for the stairs to his room. The plates were neatly stacked, chairs in place, ready for the next morning. Book believed that the world had an order, a way to be, and it was as much meditation as prayer to see things in their ordered place.
The new passengers... Book didn't yet know their place in the order of things. They were hiding something, that much Book knew. What could it be?
The boy was the logical place to look. Children always reflected the anxieties of their parents, but Ashley seemed happy, well-fed, healthy, and equally at home with both of the men.
Maybe that was it, Book thought as he walked slowly down the stairs. Something about the way the men interacted with the woman. It wasn't jealousy, not possession, just... familiarity.
As his foot touched the bottom step, he became aware that something was not as it should be. Automatically, he glanced into the vacant infirmary before sweeping his eyes around the open space.
Anita was curled up on a corner of the sofa, Ashley sleeping on her lap. She looked up at Book with eyes that were too wide, too empty. Then the haunted look was gone, but the expression was seared into Book's mind.
"Couldn't sleep?" Book said gently, so as not to wake the sleeping boy.
Anita drew an edge of the blanket tighter around her son's arm. "It's the noise," she replied, voice low.
Book nodded and perched on the edge of the step, far enough away so he wouldn't startle her. Her hair was pulled over her shoulder, and her shirt was tugged askew. At first, Book thought it was the light, but it appeared as if there was a fresh imprint of someone's teeth on her neck.
Unease growing, Book placed his bible on the step. "It's the engine. You get used to it after about a week."
"Great," Anita mumbled. She passed her hand over Ashley's hair. "At least he can sleep through it."
Book could now see the exhaustion on her face, the deep tiredness that had nothing to do with sleep. His gaze drifted back down to the bite mark, which hadn't been on her neck during dinner.
While he was thinking on how to approach this, with her men sleeping not ten feet away, Anita blinked hard and pushed her hair back from her face with her free hand. "Do you ever think about what you want?" she asked.
Book frowned slightly. "About what we want, or about what we are supposed to want?"
"What we want." Anita looked at Book. "I'm not sure if I'm better off, or worse."
"How do you mean?" The air seemed tight, and Book wasn't sure why.
Anita looked away, and Book found that he could breathe again. "I know exactly what I want, and I know exactly what I need to do in order to get it."
The hum of the engines filled the following silence, while Anita held her son and Book searched for the right words. "They can help you," he finally said.
Anita frowned at him. "What do you mean?"
"The captain, this crew," Book said. "If you and your son need protection, they can help you."
He wasn't expecting her to be so startled. "What are you talking--" Her voice broke off suddenly and she lifted her hand to her neck. "This isn't that."
"It's not?"
"No." Anita shifted around, lifting her son around in her lap. "Richard and Nathaniel, they'd never do anything to hurt me."
Then why is your neck bleeding? Book wanted to ask, but held his tongue. If she didn't want to hear it, there was nothing he could do. All he could do in this situation was to try again later, give her some time to think about his offer.
Anita ran her fingers through Ashley's hair, holding her son as if he was the only thing between her and the night, but also as if her embrace was all that protected him. Later on, when he thought about the conversation, Book was never sure why he asked what he did. "Is he your first child?"
Anita froze, a stillness so complete it was as if Book could look away and she would vanish. "No, he's not," Anita said quietly. Her eyes were fixed on Book, a calculating, ancient look there that belied her fragile appearance. "He's my second. Erin was my first."
Ashley moved in his sleep, bringing his hand up and putting his thumb in his mouth. It distracted Anita, caused her to look at her son.
"And I didn't have her for long, considering," Anita continued, talking almost to herself, "But I'm not sorry. Never sorry I got to know her, and never sorry she was mine."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Book said, feeling as he always did, that such words to a bereaved mother were more than useless. How old could Anita have been when her other child had died? In the dark of night like this, she didn't look any older than Kaylee.
Anita shook her head. "The only thing I'm sorry about is that Erin never got to meet Ashley here. I think she would have liked a little brother."
Although her voice was soft, her words almost masked the sound of footfalls in the hallway. Richard appeared around the corner. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "Everything okay?" he asked.
Anita nodded, but made no attempt to move.
"Ashley'd get a better sleep if he was lying down," Richard said, his voice neutral.
Book looked the bible on the step next to him. He wasn't sure what the other man might see in his eyes right then, and wasn't sure he wanted to find out.
Anita sighed. "Maybe you're right." She tried to stand, her son in her arms, but Richard came over and picked up the sleeping child effortlessly.
"I've got him," Richard said.
Pushing herself to her feet, Anita looked at Book for a long moment. "Thank you," she said finally.
"For what?"
"For listening," Anita said with a sad smile, then followed Richard around the corner to their bunk.
Book stayed where he was. He understood how people acted, reacted, but he had never seen anyone like these passengers. A woman with a bite on her neck, one healthy child and tales of a dead one, two men acting as if the woman was both theirs...
Somehow, in the dark of space, none of it made any sense.
~~*~~
"So they all slept in the same room?" Kaylee murmured to Simon as they cleaned up the dishes from breakfast.
Simon glanced around, making sure that the passengers in question weren't within earshot. "Yes," he said.
Kaylee's eyes were wide as she absently dried a plate. "Them beds ain't very big."
Simon gave her a warning glance. "Kaylee..."
"I'm just saying," she said, putting her hands up. It was so amazingly cute, her standing there in her little shirt, coveralls belted around her waist.
Simon turned his attention back to the dishes. It had been over a month since Jubal Early boarded Serenity to take River away. Since he had tied Kaylee up on the cold floor of the engine room and threatened to rape her. Simon had never felt such rage as when Early had told him that. The bastard was trying to steal River, but it hadn't been until he threatened Kaylee that Simon almost lost it.
Simon's life had always been very orderly. Become a doctor, be the best. To be the best, he'd had to be unemotional. Not that he didn't feel. Simon felt everything, but it had always been from behind a protective haze. Life was safe, orderly, expected.
Until he got that letter from River.
Since then, Simon had been possessed of one goal. Find his sister, get her out, make her safe. He'd done most of that, but they had fallen into a world so unfamiliar that he'd fallen back on what he knew: Be cool, aloof, don't let anyone know what you're thinking. He did it with dying patients on Osiris, until it was easier to do than be himself.
It hadn't been River who made him change. Even crazy and broken, she was still part of that old life, the cold life. Kaylee was the one who made him change. She was too brash, too honest, too... raw. It wasn't the imagery Simon wanted, but it was true. Kaylee lived life on the edge of space, on the edge of everything, and she was happy.
It made Simon want to be happy too. Happy with Kaylee, her smile and her laugh and her unfailing friendship and her willingness to listen to him as he stumbled along.
"Anyway," Kaylee went on, picking up another dish, "So long as everybody's happy, what does it matter?"
"Nothing," Simon said thoughtfully. "Doesn't matter at all."
As he spoke, the child marched back to the table and sat beside his father. "Do I hafta?" Ashley whined.
Nathaniel pulled his son's chair closer to the table. "Yes, you do."
"Why?"
"Because everyone needs to learn how to read," Nathaniel said reasonably. He put a piece of paper in front of Ashley and laid down some pens.
"I don't," Ashley said rebelliously.
"You don't?" Nathaniel pretended to consider this. "Then how will you read new stories when you're all grown up?"
Ashley squirmed. "Mommy will read them to me."
"What if Mommy's busy?"
Ashley made a face. "Then you."
Nathaniel sighed theatrically. "Be that as it may, you're still learning to read."
Ashley slumped back in his chair, face screwed up into a scowl, arms crossed petulantly over his chest. Simon had to put his hand over his mouth to hide his sudden grin.
Kaylee turned around so she was facing away from the kid, shaking with hidden laughter. "Were you ever like that?" she murmured.
Simon shook his head. "I was a very proper young man, taking my lessons seriously."
Kaylee wouldn't stop grinning. "I'll just bet you were."
At the table, Nathaniel had apparently given up on his son and was writing on the paper. Ashley got up on his knees and tried to see the paper. "What are you writing?" he asked his father, all traces of annoyance gone.
Nathaniel looked at the boy out of the corner of his eye. "Ashley smells," he said.
"I do not!" Ashley exclaimed, climbing onto his father's lap. He peered at the paper. "Write 'Daddy smells'," he demanded.
By this time, Kaylee was laughing so hard that she had to put her hand on Simon's back to steady herself.
Anita came up the stairs and walked past the table. She stopped by the cooking area, watching her son and his father argue.
Suddenly, all Simon could think about was Kaylee, her hand so warm on his back, the curve of her lips as she smiled, the dancing laughter in her eyes. Simon remembered how it felt to wake up with her on top of him on Higgin's Moon, warm and so very right...
Simon had to take a step away from Kaylee, trying to get himself under control.
Richard materialized at Anita's side from somewhere, Simon didn't quite care where. "Anita," was all he said, but then he took her arm and they headed toward the steps to the passenger dorm, and Simon found that he could think again.
Without meaning to, he looked at Kaylee. She had stopped laughing, her eyes wide, as if she wasn't sure what had just happened. She wasn't the only one.
"I, uh..." Simon stuttered.
Kaylee took a step back, looking as spooked as he did. "No, I'll get the rest of the dishes," she said in a rush.
"Right." Simon fled the room, stopping only when he got to his infirmary. He didn't want to think about it, not the sudden rush of inappropriate thoughts he'd just had over Kaylee. She deserved better than him thinking things like that about her, really she did.
He was just about to open up the supply draw to start organizing something when he heard voices drifting through the ventilation vent in the ceiling, the one that ran over the passenger dorms. "... wish you'd let me help you," came Richard's soft voice.
"I told you, you can't help," Anita replied, sounding exhausted. "I'll deal with this when we get home, when everybody's safe."
There was a pause, then Richard said, "Ashley seems to be doing okay."
"No thanks to me," Anita snapped back.
"What are you talking about?"
"This is all my f--" Anita broke off. Simon held his breath, knowing that he shouldn't be listening to this, but not able to walk away. "Not now, okay? Just help me with the ardeur."
Simon didn't recognize the word, not in the context she used it. He stayed motionless, wondering what would happen next. Little footsteps came down the stairs, past the infirmary window, just as Simon heard a sharp gasp through the vent, and not the kind one made when in pain.
Simon watched, confused and a bit embarassed, as Ashley walked across the common area toward the bunk he and his family were sharing, the one across from Shepherd Book. The kid was going to walk in on his mother with a man that wasn't his father, but what could Simon do?
Shaking his head, Simon was halfway out of the infirmary when Ashley stopped by the closed door and knocked loudly.
Simon stopped where he was as the door slid open to reveal Anita pulling her shirt back into place. "What is it?" she asked her son calmly.
"Daddy sent me to get my book," Ashley said.
Richard appeared behind Anita, his shirt already gone. He held the thin volume out to the child. "Here you go, kid."
Ashley took the book, not seeming at all worried about the adults' state of disarray. "Thank you."
Anita knelt down until she was at eye level with the boy. "Have I told you how proud I am of you lately?" she asked. Ashley shook his head. "I am. You've been acting so grown up all this time. I'm very proud of you," she said as she touched the boy's cheek.
The boy darted in and kissed his mother on the cheek, then ran back up the stairs. Anita watched him until he was gone, then her eyes fell on Simon, still standing in the middle of the common area. There was nothing overtly unfriendly in her gaze, but Simon was acutely aware of what he had just witnessed, and turned to leave. From behind her, he heard Anita slide the door shut.
Maybe he'd find out what Mal or Wash or someone not Kaylee was doing, somewhere away from these strange passengers
~~*~~
Touch.
River had been touched by many hands. Parents' hands, brother's hands, teachers' hands. Then the blue hands, pain hands, but that wasn't real touch, because they wanted to hurt, and so she made it be a dream, a nightmare she couldn't quite remember and could never forget.
She leaned against the cool walls of Serenity, in the hall between the engine room and the kitchen, directly through metal over the bed of these touching people, and let their thoughts come up to her like smoke through the air.
There was so much pain, but it was inside, like her pain, broken and battered in her head, not in her fingers or toes. She thought that he hated her, for not being strong. He thought she cringed from his touch because of what he couldn't have stopped, at the Castle. She was afraid that she wasn't going to be able to let him in, to do what needed to be done.
All painful thoughts, alone thoughts, as clothes fell away and skin touched, wet mouths and calloused hands on back and waist, touching like tracing an old path, dancing a dance they had performed a million times, until they would dance away to the heavens after their deaths to continue forever.
Then the barrier fell away, as flesh became one, thoughts became one, minds no longer alone, fears shared, so close it frightened River. They didn't cringe away from mixing thoughts (so like the needles in my head, thoughts not mine, not mind), it comforted and burned with their touches. Salty tears on the tongue, crying fears away with the touch.
River pushed herself away from the wall, the thoughts vanishing like smoke on the air. Her body felt too cold, too alone, but that wasn't her touch, wasn't her comfort. She couldn't take it as hers. She wasn't a thief.
Pulling herself to her feet, River ran on bare feet down the hall, through the kitchen past startled faces, down the stairs into the cargo bay. It was quieter here. She could move here, like a cat, not a wolf, no thinking about the way a wolf moved, in the darkness and in the flesh. Not her thoughts. She wasn't a thief.
River ran all the way down to the end of the cargo bay, almost touching the black box with its hidden silver symbols. The air tasted like tears, like blackberries after a thunderstorm. River felt like she was in a thunderstorm, buffeted about by winds she didn't understand. Was she a girl? Was she a thought? Was she a touch in the night?
Movement, a sudden scent of perfume. River stilled, hand in the air, reaching for something she didn't understand, and looked up.
Inara stood by the entrance to her shuttle, staring down at River.
Inara knew touch. Did it mean anything to her? Was Inara herself because of touch, or in spite of it?
Her energy gone, River dragged herself back up the stairs to the kitchen. One foot in front of the other, then again. People had been walking forever, but sometimes it felt like River was the first.
The little boy, half the man, half the woman, looked up as she stepped onto the metal floor. Did he know? River wondered. What his mother thought about when she cried?
"Why do you let him taste your woman?" River asked the purple man. Purple eyes, eyes were the key to the soul, a person is only his soul.
Someone gasped, probably Kaylee, River thought as she stared.
Nathaniel sat back in his chair. "She belongs to him as much as me," Nathaniel said evenly.
He was purple, and purple knew these things. "There is supposed to be a pair, a half and half to make a whole." River pointed at Ashley. "The whole is made, the halves must remain."
Nathaniel blinked slowly. "There are things stronger than a pair," he said.
River saw it in his head. Purple, green and black. Three together. A circle, strong, because of the woman in the middle. But not one trio. Two.
River's thoughts tasted like blackberries again. She shook her head hard, her hair flying in front of her face. "How can it be that way?"
"No one knows," Nathaniel said quietly. He glanced over as Inara came into the room, then back at River. "Would you like to join us?"
"We're reading," Ashley added. He held the book out to River. "Can you read?"
"Yes." River drifted around a curious Inara to the table, and sat down, proper as a lady should. "What are you reading?"
"About Narnia," Ashley explained. "It's a magic world. The animals talk."
All animals talk if you listen to them hard enough, River thought, but she listened carefully as Nathaniel began to read to his son. His words rose like mist in the air, calmer than smoke, and less dangerous in the dark.
Next chapter...
by Mhalachai
Rating: PG
Spoilers: All of Firefly, same for Anita Blake.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all things Firefly. Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. I am but borrowing the characters for a brief time and shall return them intact at the end.
Summary: Serenity gets four new passengers and, as usual, things are not as they seem.
~~. Part One .~~ ~~. Part Two .~~ ~~. Part Three .~~ ~~. Part Four .~~ ~~. Part Five .~~ ~~. Part Six .~~
Simon came down the steps to his infirmary slowly, thinking about the little altercation between the new passengers, Anita and Richard. It had seemed like a little lover's spat, but on her way to the engine room, Kaylee told them that the little boy belonged to Anita and the other man. So who was who?
He shook his head. Just a few years ago, back at the hospital, he'd have been above gossip like this. Now he had to look for anything to alleviate the boredom of these long hauls in the cold of space.
Nathaniel and Ashley came around the corner from the passenger bunks, the boy clutching a book to his chest. Simon stopped in the infirmary door. "Are you finding everything all right?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you," Nathaniel said. "It's not a big place to get lost in."
"Not at all," Simon agreed. "Will any of you be needing a doctor's services on the trip?"
It wasn't the most tactful thing he could have said, but his bedside manner had been dulled by the demands of this life on the run.
Nathaniel shook his head. "We're fine. Ashley was having a bit of trouble sleeping last week, but that was probably just being in an unfamiliar place."
"Let me know if you need anything," Simon said. He was about to go into the infirmary when he heard a tiny voice.
"Are you playing a game?" Ashley said, speaking to a hidden area under the stairs.
River, Simon thought. Hiding again.
"It's not a game," River's disembodied voice replied. "It's real. I'm not here."
Ashley laid his book on the floor and crouched down. "What are you hiding from?"
"Dinosaurs."
Ashley frowned, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. "There aren't dinosaurs anymore."
River was quiet for a moment. "They're invisible."
Simon's heart sank. Why did she have to act so crazy like this? The last thing they needed was these new passengers paying close attention to his sister.
Ashley looked around at his father. "Daddy, there are invisible dinosaurs!" he said urgently.
Nathaniel crossed the floor and knelt by the boy. Simon made himself stay where he was. He wouldn't overreact, make a bad situation worse.
"If they're invisible, how are we going to know they're coming?" Nathaniel was saying.
"They smell!" Ashley piped up, clearly getting into River's 'game'. "Like snakes!"
River edged away from her spot under the stairs so she could see the newcomers more easily. "They removed you from the incubator too soon. You're unfinished."
"He's not unfinished, River," Simon said, "he's just young."
"I'm Ashley," the boy said.
"No." River reached a hand out and touched a lock of the boy's black hair. "It's wrong."
"What is?" Nathaniel asked in a voice too calm for a strange girl to be touching his son and spouting nonsense.
River cocked her head to the side, as if she heard words that no one else did. "Hair of gold, heart ice-cold," she said in a distracted voice. She looked at Nathaniel, her expression far away. "You cut your hair. It made her sad."
Simon cast around desperately for an answer to the inevitable question about River's behaviour. But the question never came.
"Yes, it did." Nathaniel gently took River's hand and moved it away from Ashley. "But it needed to be done."
River stared at him for a long minute, then crawled out from under the stairs, like a cat, and arched her back.
Nathaniel handed Ashley the book and lifted up his son. He nodded to Simon, then walked away, keeping a cautious eye on River the entire time.
When father and son had turned the corner at the top of the stairs, Simon crouched by River. "What were you talking about?" he asked, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.
River's gaze was suddenly icy in its clarity. "You wouldn't understand," she said in a condescending voice Simon had been hearing almost since she learned to talk.
"Yes, but you need to be careful," Simon said. "We don't know anything about these people."
"They're safe, Simon. They're Council."
Simon blinked. "What council?"
River rolled her eyes and stood up gracefully. "The Council of vampires." She shook her head as she went up on tiptoe and padded like a cat toward her bunk.
Simon stayed, staring at where River had been. For a moment there, he'd thought River had been making some progress, but then she devolved into ghost stories. He sighed wearily. At least she didn't start on it in front of the guests.
Jayne pushed the door to his bunk shut with a clang. He could smell food, and it didn't smell half bad. Preacher must be cooking, he thought as he headed down the hall.
He met Mal coming down from the bridge. "You want to go check out the hold before we eat?" Mal said, not stopping to get an answer.
Jayne made a face at Mal's retreating back. "Goram captain, thinks he's the boss of everyone," Jayne said to himself as he turned on his heel and trudged down the stairs to the hold.
He stopped on the catwalk. That woman was down there, poking away at that box she'd brought on board. Jayne leaned back against a post to watch her.
She looked mighty fine, Jayne decided. Not all soft and delicate like Inara, but like a solid woman who'd enjoy a good time. It didn't hurt that she had such a tight ass, either.
Tightening one final strap, she looked up at him. A man could fall into those dark eyes. "Can I help you with something?" she asked.
Jayne crossed his arms over his chest. "It's almost dinner," he said. There, he'd been right helpful.
"Right." She bent back over the box.
"So what do you got in there that's so special?" Jayne asked.
"Books."
Jayne turned this one over in his head. It might be books, but he'd seen the way these passengers treated that box. There was some special cargo in that box, something precious. People didn't treat books like that.
While he decided not to say anything, the woman straightened up and slipped her jacket back on. The jacket fit tight under her breasts as she buttoned it up, and Jayne didn't see any reason to look away. She was a damned fine woman. Made him wonder which of the men in the kitchen she was doing.
She finished with her jacket and headed toward the stairs. When she reached the same level as Jayne, she slowed, gave him the once-over, but did not stop. Once she passed him, Jayne smirked and followed her, hanging far enough behind so he could watch her walk.
The kitchen was busier than normal as everyone was putting things on the table. Their way was hampered by a waist-high obstacle that was attempting to carry a plate of bread to the table.
Jayne didn't have anything against kids, just didn't see much use for them out in space. Didn't matter, as long as his mother kept him out from underfoot. Taking his normal chair, Jayne grabbed the pitcher and poured himself some water.
"Sorry about the chairs," the preacher said. "We only seemed to be able to round up enough for the adults."
"Shouldn't have thirteen for supper," River said from the other end of the table. She turned her chair around so the back faced the table, and knelt on the seat. "The intel's wrong."
"Mommy, I put the bread on the plate," the little boy said seriously as everyone sat down.
"Did you? It looks very nice," the woman said, lifting her son onto her lap before pulling her chair close to the table. Her men sat on either side of her, Jayne noted, the younger one keeping a very close eye on her.
Mal reached for a plate of food and it signalled everyone to begin passing around the dishes. The only empty chair at the table was beside Zoe. Wash wasn't there yet. He usually came late to meals.
Jayne handed the bread to Inara, and started eating.
Quiet.
As much as Book liked Serenity and its crew in the day when there was always activity, some of it legitimate, he liked the quiet of night more. Most of the crew were sleeping, and Book was left alone with the hum of the engines and the pressing stillness of space.
He finished his nightly readings and closed his bible. Even with four new passengers on the ship, it was almost as peaceful as it had been in the Abbey.
The kitchen was in order by the time Book headed for the stairs to his room. The plates were neatly stacked, chairs in place, ready for the next morning. Book believed that the world had an order, a way to be, and it was as much meditation as prayer to see things in their ordered place.
The new passengers... Book didn't yet know their place in the order of things. They were hiding something, that much Book knew. What could it be?
The boy was the logical place to look. Children always reflected the anxieties of their parents, but Ashley seemed happy, well-fed, healthy, and equally at home with both of the men.
Maybe that was it, Book thought as he walked slowly down the stairs. Something about the way the men interacted with the woman. It wasn't jealousy, not possession, just... familiarity.
As his foot touched the bottom step, he became aware that something was not as it should be. Automatically, he glanced into the vacant infirmary before sweeping his eyes around the open space.
Anita was curled up on a corner of the sofa, Ashley sleeping on her lap. She looked up at Book with eyes that were too wide, too empty. Then the haunted look was gone, but the expression was seared into Book's mind.
"Couldn't sleep?" Book said gently, so as not to wake the sleeping boy.
Anita drew an edge of the blanket tighter around her son's arm. "It's the noise," she replied, voice low.
Book nodded and perched on the edge of the step, far enough away so he wouldn't startle her. Her hair was pulled over her shoulder, and her shirt was tugged askew. At first, Book thought it was the light, but it appeared as if there was a fresh imprint of someone's teeth on her neck.
Unease growing, Book placed his bible on the step. "It's the engine. You get used to it after about a week."
"Great," Anita mumbled. She passed her hand over Ashley's hair. "At least he can sleep through it."
Book could now see the exhaustion on her face, the deep tiredness that had nothing to do with sleep. His gaze drifted back down to the bite mark, which hadn't been on her neck during dinner.
While he was thinking on how to approach this, with her men sleeping not ten feet away, Anita blinked hard and pushed her hair back from her face with her free hand. "Do you ever think about what you want?" she asked.
Book frowned slightly. "About what we want, or about what we are supposed to want?"
"What we want." Anita looked at Book. "I'm not sure if I'm better off, or worse."
"How do you mean?" The air seemed tight, and Book wasn't sure why.
Anita looked away, and Book found that he could breathe again. "I know exactly what I want, and I know exactly what I need to do in order to get it."
The hum of the engines filled the following silence, while Anita held her son and Book searched for the right words. "They can help you," he finally said.
Anita frowned at him. "What do you mean?"
"The captain, this crew," Book said. "If you and your son need protection, they can help you."
He wasn't expecting her to be so startled. "What are you talking--" Her voice broke off suddenly and she lifted her hand to her neck. "This isn't that."
"It's not?"
"No." Anita shifted around, lifting her son around in her lap. "Richard and Nathaniel, they'd never do anything to hurt me."
Then why is your neck bleeding? Book wanted to ask, but held his tongue. If she didn't want to hear it, there was nothing he could do. All he could do in this situation was to try again later, give her some time to think about his offer.
Anita ran her fingers through Ashley's hair, holding her son as if he was the only thing between her and the night, but also as if her embrace was all that protected him. Later on, when he thought about the conversation, Book was never sure why he asked what he did. "Is he your first child?"
Anita froze, a stillness so complete it was as if Book could look away and she would vanish. "No, he's not," Anita said quietly. Her eyes were fixed on Book, a calculating, ancient look there that belied her fragile appearance. "He's my second. Erin was my first."
Ashley moved in his sleep, bringing his hand up and putting his thumb in his mouth. It distracted Anita, caused her to look at her son.
"And I didn't have her for long, considering," Anita continued, talking almost to herself, "But I'm not sorry. Never sorry I got to know her, and never sorry she was mine."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Book said, feeling as he always did, that such words to a bereaved mother were more than useless. How old could Anita have been when her other child had died? In the dark of night like this, she didn't look any older than Kaylee.
Anita shook her head. "The only thing I'm sorry about is that Erin never got to meet Ashley here. I think she would have liked a little brother."
Although her voice was soft, her words almost masked the sound of footfalls in the hallway. Richard appeared around the corner. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "Everything okay?" he asked.
Anita nodded, but made no attempt to move.
"Ashley'd get a better sleep if he was lying down," Richard said, his voice neutral.
Book looked the bible on the step next to him. He wasn't sure what the other man might see in his eyes right then, and wasn't sure he wanted to find out.
Anita sighed. "Maybe you're right." She tried to stand, her son in her arms, but Richard came over and picked up the sleeping child effortlessly.
"I've got him," Richard said.
Pushing herself to her feet, Anita looked at Book for a long moment. "Thank you," she said finally.
"For what?"
"For listening," Anita said with a sad smile, then followed Richard around the corner to their bunk.
Book stayed where he was. He understood how people acted, reacted, but he had never seen anyone like these passengers. A woman with a bite on her neck, one healthy child and tales of a dead one, two men acting as if the woman was both theirs...
Somehow, in the dark of space, none of it made any sense.
"So they all slept in the same room?" Kaylee murmured to Simon as they cleaned up the dishes from breakfast.
Simon glanced around, making sure that the passengers in question weren't within earshot. "Yes," he said.
Kaylee's eyes were wide as she absently dried a plate. "Them beds ain't very big."
Simon gave her a warning glance. "Kaylee..."
"I'm just saying," she said, putting her hands up. It was so amazingly cute, her standing there in her little shirt, coveralls belted around her waist.
Simon turned his attention back to the dishes. It had been over a month since Jubal Early boarded Serenity to take River away. Since he had tied Kaylee up on the cold floor of the engine room and threatened to rape her. Simon had never felt such rage as when Early had told him that. The bastard was trying to steal River, but it hadn't been until he threatened Kaylee that Simon almost lost it.
Simon's life had always been very orderly. Become a doctor, be the best. To be the best, he'd had to be unemotional. Not that he didn't feel. Simon felt everything, but it had always been from behind a protective haze. Life was safe, orderly, expected.
Until he got that letter from River.
Since then, Simon had been possessed of one goal. Find his sister, get her out, make her safe. He'd done most of that, but they had fallen into a world so unfamiliar that he'd fallen back on what he knew: Be cool, aloof, don't let anyone know what you're thinking. He did it with dying patients on Osiris, until it was easier to do than be himself.
It hadn't been River who made him change. Even crazy and broken, she was still part of that old life, the cold life. Kaylee was the one who made him change. She was too brash, too honest, too... raw. It wasn't the imagery Simon wanted, but it was true. Kaylee lived life on the edge of space, on the edge of everything, and she was happy.
It made Simon want to be happy too. Happy with Kaylee, her smile and her laugh and her unfailing friendship and her willingness to listen to him as he stumbled along.
"Anyway," Kaylee went on, picking up another dish, "So long as everybody's happy, what does it matter?"
"Nothing," Simon said thoughtfully. "Doesn't matter at all."
As he spoke, the child marched back to the table and sat beside his father. "Do I hafta?" Ashley whined.
Nathaniel pulled his son's chair closer to the table. "Yes, you do."
"Why?"
"Because everyone needs to learn how to read," Nathaniel said reasonably. He put a piece of paper in front of Ashley and laid down some pens.
"I don't," Ashley said rebelliously.
"You don't?" Nathaniel pretended to consider this. "Then how will you read new stories when you're all grown up?"
Ashley squirmed. "Mommy will read them to me."
"What if Mommy's busy?"
Ashley made a face. "Then you."
Nathaniel sighed theatrically. "Be that as it may, you're still learning to read."
Ashley slumped back in his chair, face screwed up into a scowl, arms crossed petulantly over his chest. Simon had to put his hand over his mouth to hide his sudden grin.
Kaylee turned around so she was facing away from the kid, shaking with hidden laughter. "Were you ever like that?" she murmured.
Simon shook his head. "I was a very proper young man, taking my lessons seriously."
Kaylee wouldn't stop grinning. "I'll just bet you were."
At the table, Nathaniel had apparently given up on his son and was writing on the paper. Ashley got up on his knees and tried to see the paper. "What are you writing?" he asked his father, all traces of annoyance gone.
Nathaniel looked at the boy out of the corner of his eye. "Ashley smells," he said.
"I do not!" Ashley exclaimed, climbing onto his father's lap. He peered at the paper. "Write 'Daddy smells'," he demanded.
By this time, Kaylee was laughing so hard that she had to put her hand on Simon's back to steady herself.
Anita came up the stairs and walked past the table. She stopped by the cooking area, watching her son and his father argue.
Suddenly, all Simon could think about was Kaylee, her hand so warm on his back, the curve of her lips as she smiled, the dancing laughter in her eyes. Simon remembered how it felt to wake up with her on top of him on Higgin's Moon, warm and so very right...
Simon had to take a step away from Kaylee, trying to get himself under control.
Richard materialized at Anita's side from somewhere, Simon didn't quite care where. "Anita," was all he said, but then he took her arm and they headed toward the steps to the passenger dorm, and Simon found that he could think again.
Without meaning to, he looked at Kaylee. She had stopped laughing, her eyes wide, as if she wasn't sure what had just happened. She wasn't the only one.
"I, uh..." Simon stuttered.
Kaylee took a step back, looking as spooked as he did. "No, I'll get the rest of the dishes," she said in a rush.
"Right." Simon fled the room, stopping only when he got to his infirmary. He didn't want to think about it, not the sudden rush of inappropriate thoughts he'd just had over Kaylee. She deserved better than him thinking things like that about her, really she did.
He was just about to open up the supply draw to start organizing something when he heard voices drifting through the ventilation vent in the ceiling, the one that ran over the passenger dorms. "... wish you'd let me help you," came Richard's soft voice.
"I told you, you can't help," Anita replied, sounding exhausted. "I'll deal with this when we get home, when everybody's safe."
There was a pause, then Richard said, "Ashley seems to be doing okay."
"No thanks to me," Anita snapped back.
"What are you talking about?"
"This is all my f--" Anita broke off. Simon held his breath, knowing that he shouldn't be listening to this, but not able to walk away. "Not now, okay? Just help me with the ardeur."
Simon didn't recognize the word, not in the context she used it. He stayed motionless, wondering what would happen next. Little footsteps came down the stairs, past the infirmary window, just as Simon heard a sharp gasp through the vent, and not the kind one made when in pain.
Simon watched, confused and a bit embarassed, as Ashley walked across the common area toward the bunk he and his family were sharing, the one across from Shepherd Book. The kid was going to walk in on his mother with a man that wasn't his father, but what could Simon do?
Shaking his head, Simon was halfway out of the infirmary when Ashley stopped by the closed door and knocked loudly.
Simon stopped where he was as the door slid open to reveal Anita pulling her shirt back into place. "What is it?" she asked her son calmly.
"Daddy sent me to get my book," Ashley said.
Richard appeared behind Anita, his shirt already gone. He held the thin volume out to the child. "Here you go, kid."
Ashley took the book, not seeming at all worried about the adults' state of disarray. "Thank you."
Anita knelt down until she was at eye level with the boy. "Have I told you how proud I am of you lately?" she asked. Ashley shook his head. "I am. You've been acting so grown up all this time. I'm very proud of you," she said as she touched the boy's cheek.
The boy darted in and kissed his mother on the cheek, then ran back up the stairs. Anita watched him until he was gone, then her eyes fell on Simon, still standing in the middle of the common area. There was nothing overtly unfriendly in her gaze, but Simon was acutely aware of what he had just witnessed, and turned to leave. From behind her, he heard Anita slide the door shut.
Maybe he'd find out what Mal or Wash or someone not Kaylee was doing, somewhere away from these strange passengers
Touch.
River had been touched by many hands. Parents' hands, brother's hands, teachers' hands. Then the blue hands, pain hands, but that wasn't real touch, because they wanted to hurt, and so she made it be a dream, a nightmare she couldn't quite remember and could never forget.
She leaned against the cool walls of Serenity, in the hall between the engine room and the kitchen, directly through metal over the bed of these touching people, and let their thoughts come up to her like smoke through the air.
There was so much pain, but it was inside, like her pain, broken and battered in her head, not in her fingers or toes. She thought that he hated her, for not being strong. He thought she cringed from his touch because of what he couldn't have stopped, at the Castle. She was afraid that she wasn't going to be able to let him in, to do what needed to be done.
All painful thoughts, alone thoughts, as clothes fell away and skin touched, wet mouths and calloused hands on back and waist, touching like tracing an old path, dancing a dance they had performed a million times, until they would dance away to the heavens after their deaths to continue forever.
Then the barrier fell away, as flesh became one, thoughts became one, minds no longer alone, fears shared, so close it frightened River. They didn't cringe away from mixing thoughts (so like the needles in my head, thoughts not mine, not mind), it comforted and burned with their touches. Salty tears on the tongue, crying fears away with the touch.
River pushed herself away from the wall, the thoughts vanishing like smoke on the air. Her body felt too cold, too alone, but that wasn't her touch, wasn't her comfort. She couldn't take it as hers. She wasn't a thief.
Pulling herself to her feet, River ran on bare feet down the hall, through the kitchen past startled faces, down the stairs into the cargo bay. It was quieter here. She could move here, like a cat, not a wolf, no thinking about the way a wolf moved, in the darkness and in the flesh. Not her thoughts. She wasn't a thief.
River ran all the way down to the end of the cargo bay, almost touching the black box with its hidden silver symbols. The air tasted like tears, like blackberries after a thunderstorm. River felt like she was in a thunderstorm, buffeted about by winds she didn't understand. Was she a girl? Was she a thought? Was she a touch in the night?
Movement, a sudden scent of perfume. River stilled, hand in the air, reaching for something she didn't understand, and looked up.
Inara stood by the entrance to her shuttle, staring down at River.
Inara knew touch. Did it mean anything to her? Was Inara herself because of touch, or in spite of it?
Her energy gone, River dragged herself back up the stairs to the kitchen. One foot in front of the other, then again. People had been walking forever, but sometimes it felt like River was the first.
The little boy, half the man, half the woman, looked up as she stepped onto the metal floor. Did he know? River wondered. What his mother thought about when she cried?
"Why do you let him taste your woman?" River asked the purple man. Purple eyes, eyes were the key to the soul, a person is only his soul.
Someone gasped, probably Kaylee, River thought as she stared.
Nathaniel sat back in his chair. "She belongs to him as much as me," Nathaniel said evenly.
He was purple, and purple knew these things. "There is supposed to be a pair, a half and half to make a whole." River pointed at Ashley. "The whole is made, the halves must remain."
Nathaniel blinked slowly. "There are things stronger than a pair," he said.
River saw it in his head. Purple, green and black. Three together. A circle, strong, because of the woman in the middle. But not one trio. Two.
River's thoughts tasted like blackberries again. She shook her head hard, her hair flying in front of her face. "How can it be that way?"
"No one knows," Nathaniel said quietly. He glanced over as Inara came into the room, then back at River. "Would you like to join us?"
"We're reading," Ashley added. He held the book out to River. "Can you read?"
"Yes." River drifted around a curious Inara to the table, and sat down, proper as a lady should. "What are you reading?"
"About Narnia," Ashley explained. "It's a magic world. The animals talk."
All animals talk if you listen to them hard enough, River thought, but she listened carefully as Nathaniel began to read to his son. His words rose like mist in the air, calmer than smoke, and less dangerous in the dark.
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no subject
Date: 2005-09-17 09:08 pm (UTC)The part with Simon and Kaylee, Anita accidentally set off their hidden passion, which is why Richard hauled her away to go feed the ardeur properly.
Thanks for your River compliment. She's a very difficult character to write (can't wait for the movie, actually!)
no subject
Date: 2005-09-18 03:31 pm (UTC)