PART 31: HE DRANK

It was an all out feast and celebration, albeit impromptu. They had just finished a job on Santos and gone to the town fair that evening. The next morning around 5am, Jayne and Sky arrived back on the ship, him punch drunk, her with a plastic bouquet of flowers, their hands joined on a bottle of whiskey and a marriage certificate. It had been a long time since Mal had shots for breakfast, but he did it for Jayne. The two were neck and neck right up to the third one at which point Jayne was laughing so hard he passed out and bumped his head. The rest of the morning was a bit fuzzy for Mal. In fact, the first part was pretty fuzzy as well. The others had awoken to there rabble-rousing, and as Sky ministered to the fresh welt on Jayne’s forehead, Kaylee challenged Mal and River to a shot relay. So there he was taking a shot, running around the table, taking a shot, running around again, trying desperately to keep up with the girls and not trip over the chairs. Weren’t fair, Kaylee and River having not started their morning with three shots on an empty stomach the way Mal had. Simon had set out some wafers and water right away, encouraging responsible drinking, until Kaylee offered him a belly button shot, at which point the Doc cracked his knuckles and took on the challenge. River cheered on wobbly legs, pouring another round for herself and Jayne. By 8am, Inara and Sky were the least drunk of the crew, having got straight to preparing breakfast. Despite everyone’s protests that Sky should sit down and enjoy herself, she insisted on cooking seeing as she had a craving for French toast and no one else knew how to make it right. “Hey, Zoë,” Mal greeted the blurry looking girl standing in the doorway. “Come in and celebrate with us. Your Uncle Jayne got hitched last night.” He handed over his whiskey glass, encouraging her to taste and laughed out loud at the face she made. Her nose wrinkled and her eyebrows scrunched together and she hissed fresh air into her mouth to follow the burn of the alcohol. Mal put his arm around her and laughed again when she didn’t hand the glass back. She stood by his chair, whiskey in hand, leaning contentedly against his shoulder as Jayne started the story. “It was like a beacon of light off in the distance. The Graceland Chapel o’ Love, the one undead Elvis Presley presidin’. Never seen a preacher dress stranger, or a ceremony without an arch, but we jumped over this broom stick and it was done!” “Didn’t you need witnesses?” Inara laughed, sipping her whiskey in the most dainty of manners. “We had witnesses,” Jayne slurred. “Elvis-Norm and, uh…” “Elvis-John,” Sky finished. “One in black, one in white. Wild hair. Funny capes.” “One of ‘em let me play his guitar,” Jayne chuckled, nearly falling over in his chair, but Zoë reached out and caught his arm. “What’s goin’ on?” Cole peaked in curiously, leading the pack of youngens into the dining room. Kaylee quickly sat up and pulled her shirt over her navel, but Simon was still nipping drunkenly at her ear. Sky brought the first round of French toast to the table, straddled Jayne, and alternated between bites of toast and bites of her new husband. “Jayne and Sky got married,” Kaylee explained cheerfully, sliding off the table so as the kids wouldn’t follow her bad example. “What ever happened to living in sin?” Zoë asked, her nose scrunching as the whiskey touched her tongue again. At the rate she was going, the alcohol would evaporate before she actually swallowed anything new. “Yeah, what finally prompted the move?” Mal goaded. Sky laughed kissing Jayne’s nose, and spoke tauntingly as if talking only to him. “Seems if there’s one thing in the ‘verse that scares Mr. Cobb more than Reavers, it’s his Ma.” “That letter was callin’ for blood,” Jayne defended, looking around her to point a finger at the blurry folks in the room who might judge. “She had a point.” “What was the point?” Kaylee teased, grabbing a slice of toast from the second plate as Inara brought it over. “Jayne wrote her askin’ for a new hat,” Sky began, speaking as though it were the stupidest thing Jayne could have done. “Hinted that it needed to be a bit smaller than the last and ready in nine months time. And she replied –” “Don’t see what the bid deal is. She weren’t married when she had me.” Mal squinted through the hazy room, his neurons struggling to fire, his brain cells madly processing. Sky was still talking as if she hadn’t noticed the room fall so quiet. “Hold on,” Mal interrupted. “Go back to the part about the little hat.”

*~*

PART 32: HE CHASED RABBITS

Mal used to need coffee to jump start his day, but now he tended to spring out of bed before the alarm even went off. Finding a blue shirt on the floor that didn’t smell too offensive, he shook out the fabric, and shrugged it on, then went in search of pants. Inara rolled and yawned, looking radiant wearing one of his old t-shirts. It had taken years, even after they were married, to get to the grey sweatpants, no make-up side of her. It had taken her being kidnapped. At first, he thought she was just rejecting all her fancy life, the way she’d stopped wearing her jewelry. Those hun dan had no doubt planted a thousand lies in her head, that the way she dressed she was begging to be taken. At first, maybe it was that. By now, it was just comfortable love. She’d choose between the silk nightgown (which drove Mal crazy), the soft t-shirt (which also drove Mal crazy), or nothing at all (which really… oh, yeah). When he leaned in to give her a kiss, she grabbed his suspenders, making him fall on the bed. Mal laughed into her mouth as his head banged against the wall and she rolled up on top of him. Normally, he’d blow off his work and take a slow morning, but this was not Inara’s time and she knew it. A few kisses later, he rolled her off him, finished dressing, and bound excitedly into the hall. Were he less of a man (or perhaps a more secure man), he’d probably have skipped to the children’s quarters. Tipping open the door to Michael’s room, he saw the boy already up and wandering, playing with his toys. This was his time. Their time. The hour before the ship woke up and his little voice got crowded into silence. Mal cherished this hour for the unexpected twists it brought to his day, the strange stories his son came up with, and the sweet privilege of getting to know his own boy one game at a time. “Baba, lets chase rabbits!” Michael said excitedly, abandoning his truck and running over. Mal dropped to his knees, giving a good morning hug, not even second guessing the odd request, knowing Michael would explain soon. Little Michael took his hand, leading him to the cargo bay, beginning a story. “Last night, this huge trans-dimensional space ship appeared and docked with Serenity. That’s why the ship rolled over the way it did and everyone’s change fell out of their pockets. And they left behind a giant rabbit in the cargo bay that got so pregnant with baby rabbits it exploded!” “Oh, my. Sounds pretty bloody.” “It was terrible,” Michael agreed, nodding his head seriously. “But now there are baby rabbits all over the ship and we have to catch them before they take over!” Mal laughed heartily, asking more questions about the nature of this trans-dimensional ship, and if there was any money in the rabbit trade. Before he knew it, he was hopping around the cargo bay, leap-frogging (or leap bunnying?), chasing rabbits with Michael. By breakfast time, they had to contend that most of the rabbits had leapt to another dimension and that those still on board would not fetch a fair price in the fur market anyhow. Michael helped him negotiate a truce with the trans-dimensional aliens, agreeing that no more bunnies would be exchanged between the ships, then they established a non-aggression pact with the bunnies staying on board. It was one of the few times in Mal’s long career that a negotiation had gone well and he came out on the better end of a deal. But then, that was one of the perks of knowing Michael.

*~*

PART 33: HE SEARCHED

Panic coursed through him as the buzz of a ‘miracle’ button woke him up. It had been so long since any of the children had called for him in the middle of the night. They tended to crawl into each others rooms for the little things – even when Jamie broke his collar bone jumping on the bed. Inara was only half a step behind him, her robe flapping behind her like a flag in the wind. As they rounded the bend to the staircase, he could hear Cole crying, and the alarm in his mind rang all the louder. His son sat on the bottom stair, moaning like he’d just had a nightmare, and Mal scooped him into a hug, brushing his raven-black hair from his face. “What happened, Cole? Are you hurt?” Inara asked urgently, holding her sleeve to Cole’s bloody nose. Cole shook his head. “Is someone here?” Seeing his injuries were minimal, Mal became quickly wary, handing Cole over to Inara and checking the hallway, then peaking into the children’s rooms. “Did someone hit you?” “Jie jie,” he sobbed, then hiccupped. “Zoë hit you?” Inara asked incredulously. Cole shook his head again, searching for the breath to explain. “She will when she finds out.” “Finds out what, Cole?” Mal asked sternly, skipping the rest and heading to Zoë’s room. He tipped open the door, but Zoë wasn’t inside. “When she finds out I called you. She didn’t… she ain’t here, Baba.” “This I can see.” Cole buried his head woefully in Inara’s shoulder as Mal rummaged around the room, a strange feeling setting in. “Mal,” Inara whispered, her voice sinking as she peered inside. She noticed it too. Zoë wasn’t the only thing missing from the room. He couldn’t place it at first, because her clipboard was still on the bed, one of Zoë’s tireless letters resting on top. His heart near stopped when he leaned over to read what she’d written. ‘Don’t come for me, Mal. This is something I have to do. –Zoë.’ “She told me not to tell,” Cole wept. “But I got so scared for her.” “She’ll forgive you, Cole. You did the right thing,” Mal assured, touching Cole’s face, then running to the buttons that would awake the rest of the crew. He could be angry with Little Zoë, but he could never hate her. He could give her freedom to fall, without letting go. He hated the distance between them now, though she seemed to need it. She’d timed it perfectly – knowing they had a job and were planning to take off before breakfast. If Cole hadn’t spoken up, they’d have been half a day out before anyone noticed her missing, and probably another half day after that before anyone got concerned about it. She wanted to get left, and she didn’t want him to come back for her. But he was her family; he was her father. Leaving her behind just wasn’t an option.

*~* * * A.N. - This is just fair warning, I'm planning to round the series off in a few more posts. Savor the moments while they last, especially the fluff. If you couldn't tell by the last setup, the next part will be pure angst...

Story continues with Please, God, No...