Angelle is mine, and the rest belongs to Whedon. ------------------------------------------------

Nerves...Damn it, why did he have to go and kiss me? It had been much easier when my little crush had just been that, a crush. Now, well, things had definitely gotten complicated. I hadn't talked to Mal much after the kiss, and I think he knew it had thrown me for a bit of a loop. Don't get me wrong, if he was any other man, I'd have shown him all kinds of fun stuff us swamp girls knew how to do, but Mal...he had been in my dreams since the day my daddy came home from the war spouting stories. He was never suppose to waltz into my life and make me want to live those dreams.

My hair fell in my face as I stared at myself in the mirror. Scars littered my slender body, most from my life as a swamp girl. One or two had been from lead, bullets sent to make sure I wouldn't make another birthday. My largest, though, ran along my spine, a long jagged line that started between my shoulder blades and ended about two inches from my backside. There have been many moments in my life that have frightened me, but only once have I been completely terrified. That day, Old Scar almost swallowed me whole. Henceforth, the scar from his large incisor dragging down my back while my father pulled me from his mouth...Over two hundred stitches and several pints of blood... Yup, got a lot of respect for that beast!!

"Stix, honey. You awake?" My father knocked lightly on my door and I grabbed the black satin robe from my chair before the door swung open. "Mal and I were wondering where you had gone off to."

I turned quickly, but realized my father was alone. "Just thinkin' on what to wear tonight."

"You ain't jealous over me hangin' out with Little Kaylee, are you?"

"No, Dad. I know why you do it and it's fine." I walked over to my closet as we stood in silence for a minute.

"You know, if you and Mal don't hit it off, I ain't gonna be mad." He shuffled his feet as I pulled out a long black dress. "You thinkin' about wearin' one of your momma's things?"

"Rest easy, Old man. Just thinkin' is all." I then grabbed a pair of blue jeans and a black tank top. "Mal kissed me." It came out so fast that I slapped my hand over my mouth as not to say anything more.

"I know. He told me. Asked if the offer of courtin' you was still on the table." He smiled."Said you were old enough to make up your own damn mind 'bout who you wanted courtin' ya."

"Thanks, Dad. You're the best." I walked over and he drew me into a large hug.

"It's so easy being a dad to you, Stix. You've always made me proud." He kissed my forehead and then whispered gently in my ear. "I did tell him if he let you go again, it would be his own damn loss. After all, there ain't no finer girl out there than mine."

My hand slapped him playfully as I pushed away to get dressed behind the large wooden screen that stood in the one corner. "Meddlin' old man...It's a wonder he ain't done gathered his crew and shoved off this wet rock."

"Couldn't even if he wanted to. Some backwater inbreds done covered his boat with a tree." Mal laughed as he walked into my room and over to my dad.

"Ever heard of knockin'?" I called, feeling somewhat naked despite the inch wood between us. "Door was open. In my book, it's an invite."

"Gator's mouth's always open. Don't mean you got to put your head inside." I pulled the jeans up over my hips and tossed the tank top on. Turning to see my reflection in the mirror behind me, I smoothed out a few wrinkles and ran my long fingers through my slightly unruly hair. It fell past my shoulders, stopping between my shoulder blades.

"What's gotten in to her?" I heard him ask my dad and he chuckled.

"Can't rightly say, but it could be the company of two grown men in her room while she's tryin' to get dressed."

I walked out from my makeshift dressing room and grabbed at the necklace with my father and mother's rings on it, slipping over my head." You think?" "Never could figure out women." Mal smiled and sniffed me, which made me take a step back. "Smell good, like honeysuckles we had on our ranch." Damn it and I was trying to be mad at him. Why is it men have to be so insensitive and moments later be so sweet? I smiled at him, but refused to let my guard down. "Thanks. My mother use to wear honeysuckle oil all the time and I like the way it reminds me of her."

"Want me to leave you two alone? I can make an excuse out at the fire." I forgot my father was there as my soul had gotten lost in a pair of blue eyes.

"No! You're havin' this for us and it would be wrong to skip out. Besides, Snoodles said he'd play the bongos for us."

"Snoodles? Bongos?" Mal looked at me and I shrugged.

"Scouts did spot that gator, too. A young one, might even be one of Old Scar's. Estimated at around three hundred pounds, give or take." Sam took out his radio that had rested in his pocket. "Might want to take care of that in the mornin'."

"Could try tonight. Full moon will make him easy to spot and he'll be more groggy."

"You wanna go after that thing in the dark, by all means, Stix, but you best be being careful. Don't need to lose you to a Gator. I've already almost lost you the first time."

"What?" Mal asked, his eyes opening in surprise.

"Tell ya later." I whispered, but he beat me to answering my dad.

"I'll be there to make sure she don't do anything stupid.”

“Says the man who once walked into a group of Alliance soldiers stark naked and drunk.” I grinned at him as he looked to my Dad.

“All the stories of makin' me out to be a hero and you had to add that one.”

“Ya did rescue our men, Sir. Was a bit heroic if you asked me.”

“Might have been more so if my men wouldn't have left me to take care of them all myself.” Mal growled this and my dad just began to laugh. I could do nothing, but shake my head at the both of them. “Master Sam.” Jameson stood outside my doorway, my father's right hand man and one of the very few who knew my whole story. He was about as old as Mal, and every bit as handsome. Only thing was I had grown up with him and he had been my brother's best friend.

“Yes, Jameson. You've met Malcolm Reynolds, haven't you?”

“No, sir, but I did meet his first mate, Zoe. Woman's got quite a solid right hook.” He ran a left hand over his black hair and stick his right out to Mal. “Jameson Liverpool, but most around these parts just call me Gunner.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Gunner. I take you're into weapons, huh?” “Actually, Jameson is probably the best pilot 'round these parts. Earned a degree and everything from the Alliance Academy.”

“My father sent me. He was quite the company man, wanted me to get a good life off this wet rock. Alliance offered me a chance to learn and I took it. Thought they were good people before the war. Figure any power that would slaughter innocent men all to have them under their thumb ain't the kind I want to be servin'. Fly for Master Sam now.”

“Didn't know you all had a boat.” Mal stated curiously.

“Not much. Just a small Scout ship we were able to salvage once the Gators had finished with it. Call it our Star Hopper. It's enough for running supplies and a certain young lady to Persephone and back. Not quite like the fighter I use to fly.” Jameson looked toward and I winked at him. “Saw your Firefly when you came in. She's a real beaut.”

“Ever fly one?” Mal suddenly became very interested in Gunner and I began to wonder just what he might have planned.

“Only once and it was about seven years back when I worked for a freight line running guns. They're a bitch to land and get in the air, but once you're in the black, nothing's smoother.” Gunner had flown most everything the Alliance had in its fleet so I hoped Mal knew that Serenity had just gotten quite a compliment. Strangely, the captain only nodded and stood with the look like the wheels were turning in his head.

“So, what did you need, Jameson?” My father watched Mal for a second and then turned.

“Oh, reason I come to get you was the villagers are ready to start the bonfire. Got a young swamp pig to roast and Snoodles mixed up some of his famous Moonshine for us. 'Course, the womenfolk got all kinds of good grub out there.”

“Well, we best not keep them waitin'. You two ready to go?”

“Home cooked meal with the chance of getting' eaten afterwards by a large gator. Sounds like my kind of night.” Mal smiled at me and offered his arm. I slid mine into his and whispered softly.

“Can't say I ever take you on a dull date.”

“That's for certain. Kind of makes it hard for a guy to top.”

“Oh, I think you'll come up with somethin'. Heard you're very creative.”

“Probably don't wanna know what you mean by that, do I?”

“Probably not. Just remember to be easy on the moonshine. Naked might work on Alliance soldiers, but gators aren't as fussy.”

“Guess you should know. Mind tellin' me about it as we walk?” We began to walk, my father and Gunner laughin' ahead of us.

“About six years ago, right after my mother took a gun to her head, my cousin decided she was going to run away from home. Bein' about sixteen and all manner of stupid, she took off into the swamp to right scare her mother good. Her sister came runnin' over to Sam worried sick and pregnant with little Nelly. Well, instead of waitin' for a search party to gather, I took my old scent dog, Patch and headed out after her. Thing was Old Scar found her first.”

“It was too late, swamp like this ain't meant for those who have no business in it, but l still had to try for her body. Give her mom that peace of mind and something to bury. Old Scar didn't feel the same way and we had a right good wrestlin' match. Ended with me half way in his mouth headed for the stomach. Old Patch and my dad were goin' to have none of that. Dog went for his tail as Dad grabbed my legs and pulled me out, but not without a memory for the old scrap book. Scar runs up my spine along my entire back, about two hundred or so stitches to close her up.”

“Didn't we see that monster today?”

“Yup. Dad wanted to kill him, said it would do everyone a bit of good, but it wasn't Ole Scar's fault some teenage brat wandered into his swamp and her fool hearted cousin followed after. Been another thing entirely had he attacked the village.”

“Funny how compassionate you're with animals and you kill for a livin'.”

“Way I see it, animals just do what comes natural like, but us humans, we kill for no other reason than to see a man die. Puts things in perspective, don't ya think?”

“More I get to know you, Angelle Marcs, the closer I want to get.” His statement made my heart beat like an out of control freight train and I coughed lightly just to save myself from sighing in a girly fashion. Thankfully, the greetings of about hundred people ended the conversation, though I had a slight suspicion it would continue at a later date. Strangely, I was actually looking forward to it.