Memory of a Killer ------------------- based on the world of Firefly by Joss Whedon

She ran a casual finger along the gun again and then on the bullet around her neck. Had it been over ten years since... Her hand fell to her head as she tried to clear her mind. Think of something else, anything else.

It had been years since her last conscious thought of Mal, the man she was meant to kill before the Firefly and during the war. A simple mission to kill the leaders of the Rebellion and restore order, but that was asking too much. He had been strong, a deserving more than a bullet to his head from 100 yards. No, Mal, she decided needed to be given a fighting chance.

Why had she decided something so foolish? Was she not one of the best Black Slate had to offer? A shadow to eliminate the enemy without making a scene. What had stopped her?

Her lips curled as she remembered his face, covered in dirt and blood from his comrades as she emerged from the cover of a rock. How he drew his gun and then stopped as she dropped hers to the ground. The Alliance was wrong about the Browncoats. They were not the weaklings and rats her superiors lead her to believe. In fact, maybe they had it backwards. Her rifle had laid at her feet as she stepped over it to face him, her eyes carrying the strength of the assassin she was.

He spoke to her wondering what she wanted, wondering why she had not pulled the trigger. Remembering her words brought a smile to her lips as she tried to picture his expression.

"I was meant to carry this a little longer." She had stated holding up the bullet before placing it in her pocket.

For some reason, he had smiled back at her, but didn't remove the gun pointed at her.

"Can't trust you."

"Wanna pat me down?" She had said, letting her eyes roam over his war torn body. Had she meant to sound seductive, she wasn't sure. "I have another gun on my hip and a knife in my boot. My hands, though, are my deadliest weapon."

"Maybe you need to turn and head the other way."

"They'll kill me if I don't bring them your head. It's what I was sent for."

"Not sure I'm quite done with it, yet. Got a name?"

"Most call me Cat."

"Guessing you know mine"

"Sargent Malcolm Reyonlds...Had orders to kill you and your second, Zoe."

"And now?"

"Not looking good since you have a gun trained on me and my rifle is behind me."

"I've got a right mind to shoot you, Cat, but it seems either way you are going to die."

"Seems that way."

"Care for a drink? I think Zoe's got a pot of coffee on the fire."

"I could stand a cup." She remembered smiling as he holstered his gun.

"You gonna pick up that rifle?"

"I could."

"We could use another gun."

"Don't have anything thing else pressing right now?" Even though agreeing would sign her death warrant. The Alliance would see to her demise as would her peers.

"Well, grab your rifle and let's go see about that coffee." "Might want to take this." She handed him the bullet from her pocket. "I'm not sure I will ever be able to use it."

"Nah, keep it. After this war, you just might get angry enough at me to employ it."

"Suit yourself."She placed it back within her pocket before bending to grab the state of the art rifle and her duffle bag hidden behind the rock. She snapped the homing beacon in half before returning to Mal's side. "I have more rations, if you need them"

"Good." Mal had smiled again at her. " By the way, Cat, you got a brown coat?"