Parasols Made of Rainbow Lace ----------------------------------

based on the world of Firefly by Joss Whedon

It was the Parasol she noticed first as the young girl spun it in the air while sitting in what looked to be a lawn chair, the shade of a green apple. Her dress was that of the oriental flare and made Cat almost smile as she approached.

"You look lost?" the soft voice asked her, a surprising innocence that even Cat was not fooled into believing.

"Is this Captain Reynold's ship?"

"It's his boat, alright, but if truth be told, she's more mine than his." She winked and twisted the colorful prop again, shading her pale skin from the sun. "You know the captain?"

"By reputation only." Cat had to lie. She didn't want a scene. "Are you taking passengers?"

"Does an engine need grease?" Another killer smile. "Name's Kaylee, mech for this boat and you are?"

"Cat."

"Simple enough. Heading where?"

"Anywhere. but here. Not real picky."

"Well, Capt'n can answer any questions you might have."

"Is Zoe still around?"

"Now, how would you be knowing her?"

"Heard she was good with a gun and his right hand."

"Capt'n wouldn't go no wheres without Zoe. You lookin' to hire them for a job?"

"Not sure."

"They're the best."

"Kaylee! Where in the gorram 'verse are you?" a strong voice came from inside the old ship. Cat knew immediately who it was.

"I'm out here. Might have a job."

"Well, I need you here taking care of our boat. No boat. No job. Dong ma?" He appeared at the top of the ramp as the hot sun hit his face. She had waited a long time for this moment, a moment she would know exactly what to say to him.

Mal hadn't changed a bit. Same eyes, same hair, and the same brown coat wore even in the heat of the summer sun. He would die in that coat and if the person in charge of placing him in his grave did not include it in his burial, well, you might just get to see what a real restless spirit was.

"Capt'n, this is Cat. She's got a job."

"Kaylee, get yourself inside." It was quiet, but stern order as she watched him reach for his gun.

"But..."

"Now!"

"Fine." The mechanic huffed grabbing her chair and parasol before heading into the ship. Mal's eyes were still on Cat as she slowly turned to show him she was unharmed.

"Got nothing on me, Mal. Just me."

"You don't need a gun. I've seen you do things to men with your hands that were all kind of manner of wrong."

"I remember once you liked what my hands could do."

"That was a while back."

"Ten years."

"Why ya here?"

"Closure, I guess."

"Finish the job or endanger my crew." Mal shook his head. "Can't have you here, Cat. Can't trust you."

"But, you could when you needed an extra gun or when you were sex starved in some foxhole." She never meant to sound mad, but her emotions always ran hot around him.

"Times are different. I'm different."

"No, Mal. That is one thing that will never change. Look after your crew and your boat and protect what is yours and to hell with everything else. Seems I was never part of that." Her eyes burned and she turned so that the sun would hide her tears.

"Are you staying in town?"

"Might. Why?"

"Have a drink with me later. I owe you that for coming here and all. Won't promise anything else."

"If I'm there, I'm there. Not sure I want to stay after this warm reception." She began to walk, but stopped and removed the leather cord around her neck. Turing and walking back toward Mal, she dropped the contents of her hand on the ground where she once stood.

As she walked away, she could hear Mal reaching for it, and imagine the puzzled expression on his face. Her head looked back at him as her voice found itself again. "I'm tired of carrying it."