SP-SPOILERS! SP-SPOILERS!! SP-SPOILERS AHOY!!!

BDM MOVIE SPOILERS AHEAD!!! THIS FIC TAKES PLACE AFTER THE EVENTS OF THE FILM! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE YET TO SEE “SERENITY”. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED. GRR. AARGH. ;-)

Somedays by Lord Kinbote

(someday #137)

“That which is is a shell floating in an infinitude of that which is not.” -Sir Arthur Eddington, physicist, 1928

*

She won’t stop leaving tokens for Zoe. She won’t stop purring. She won’t stop singing from the catwalks. Russian, I think. Whenever we land, she climbs atop Serenity, stretches her arms out wide and caterwauls to the far horizon.

Zoe still isn’t speaking.

*

Jayne, if you can believe it, has been a godsend. He keeps River busy. They fight with long sticks. When she inevitably wins she squeals the unearthliest squeal of pure delight, like a museum-piece modem’s conception of the call of the wild, all static and tremulous squee. She is delighted so because victory has reaped her a reward. It has earned her the right to climb Jayne like a shady tree. She scampers straight up there, stands one foot on a shoulder and the other atop his thick skull, then he tries to shake her off, make her toes touch the ground, without using his hands or tools of any sort. If he tries to cheat, which he inevitably does, she punishes him. Hard. It really is an experience just to witness it. Sometimes they do a more clowning variety if there are children about. He can throw her up so high she does three complete somersaults before she lands on him. The kids go crazy, of course, but my heart skips a beat every single time.

Yesterday, after his huffing surrender, she slid her legs down around the sides of his head, plopped down on his shoulders, leaned over and kissed wetly him on the cheek. Then, in a blinking instant, she sprang back up to launch herself at the underside of a catwalk, jackknifed and was gone into Inara’s shuttle, leaving the thinnest whisper of a giggle hanging in the air.

“Dang,” was all he said for a moment, rubbing his neck and then licking the fingers. (I try not to think about this.) “I don’t think she was wearing any panties.” On the bright side, at least now I know what my stomach lining tastes like. Like dead feet and cabbage, apparently.

*

Meanwhile, Zoë won’t leave Mal’s side while we’re on the clock. Won’t or can’t make eye contact with anyone. Doesn’t say anything, just stands there and does what she’s told when she‘s told. Captain won’t talk about it but the strain on him is as obvious as a nova next door. When he says work’s done, she turns on a heel and goes straight to her quarters.

I don’t think she’s there at all.

*

I’ve begun hearing the engine hum in my dreams. Kaylee claims that officially makes me a space dog now. Excuse me. A space daawwwwggg. Something in a Pekinese, that’s her guess. You know what else she said to me this fine morning? “Lordy, I could lick every inch of you.” How can anyone not love her? She makes rations seem a lovely feast.

But back to my original thought. The tokens. Every day River leaves these little treasures outside of Zoë’s hatch to greet her as she emerges in the morning. For whatever reason, Zoë ignores them completely during the day, almost like she doesn’t even see them, but picks them up ever so gently and takes them to bed with her when she goes. They’re nothing really. Scraps of wire and various bits of detritus bent into vivid shapes. Frenetic sculptures that fit easily into the palm of your hand. Zoë must have dozens in there by now. I’ve only actually seen River make one, the first, but she goes absolutely ballistic if anyone else on the ship touches one, including the Captain. And she’ll know it from anywhere on the ship if you are foolish enough to do so. I can’t explain it but the whole business seems a sad, waltzing conversation.

*

If one absolute good has come out of all this pain and madness (besides the blue-tinted jackals ceasing their guerre a outrance against River once and for all) it is that Mal and Inara are talking, finally. No banter, taunts or insults. Talk. As if it were pouring out of them. Mostly when Z is in her bunk, but not always. Not surprisingly, I credit Z herself with this near miraculous turn of verbal events. (We all know how Mal can get.) Just before she fell silent, Z really let him have it regarding the waste of the thing. She truly stuck it to him. And then she broke it off. I’m sorry to admit I overheard this conversation. On this ship, it’s hard not to sometimes.

“…And you two don’t have to hide your happiness from me, sir.”

“We’re not…”

“In point of fact, I rather wish you wouldn’t.”

“Hmm. Huuh.”

“Life is short.” Mal said nothing to this. “Life is short and if you’re not man enough to handle that then you’re not the man I thought you were, siiir.”

As far as I know, those were the last words she actually spoke. River started crafting her treasures the next morning. Something akin to a swan lifting off, if I recall. There was quite a scene when she gave it to Zoë at mess that night. Z cried. Just broke down right there and bawled big gasping, tremulous sobs. We were all shocked. And a little relieved. It had been months since…

*

I wish I had gotten to know him better. I wish I had paid him more kindnesses. He certainly deserved them, and more.

*

Book.

Oh, Shepard Book. I hope I’m wrong about you. Jayne’s been reading the Book though, on the sly. One does wonder.

*

We’re bound for a new moon. I’m told that among wayward folk such as ourselves it is the most stringently upheld of traditions to throw a party the night before setting down somewhere no one on the ship has been before. Kaylee is making a dress for Zoë, to give her that night. River, of course, is fascinated. She worries that becoming a dress will disappoint the leather.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more at peace than I was last night, just watching Kaylee set up in bed, working that thick stitch in our quarter’s warm glow and humming little ditties to herself while I pretended to read Mishima Minear. I wouldn’t mind one bit if Eternity were those few hours.

*

Jayne came to me in his best shirt, just after breakfast. Needless to say, I saw him coming a mile away. Or Kaylee did, truth be told. He hemmed and sputtered and asked permission of me to court River. I, of course, said there wasn’t a chance in ovine-humping Hades. I couldn’t resist. You should’ve seen his face. But then I dutifully reminded him that, if indeed such a thing were ever to take place, neither he nor I would likely have much say in the matter. He seemed relieved.

*

The Captain.

O, Captain.

My Captain. I am beginning to despair for the man. I fear he’s going to be carrying around that look in Zoë’s eye for a long, long while. Thank the seven sisters for Inara and her honeyed ways.

*

Zoë’s leaving. “Just to set still for a spell,” or so she says. River looks worried. I think Z can’t stop chewing over and over and over yet again on that Operative. I think she means to seek him out. I think she means to die. Captain didn’t say a word.

We can all hear her sharpening knives in there. Shhhhhkkt. Shhhhhkkt. Shhhkt.

*

I used the encyclopedia to translate River’s song today. Can’t say why I didn’t do it sooner. It is Hebrew. Two lines, repeated endlessly. “I thought I saw the light. I saw the light.” Sometimes it is a plaintive moan. Sometimes it’s as peppy as a Blue Sun superliminal. It’s always different. It’s always the same.

*

River is in love. She told him just before she left with Zoë. “Love is the best thing ever. It’s waiting in the lion’s mane,” is how she explained it to me. “Besides,” she added, “he likes my bits. And I love his big...” I stopped her right there. The second the shuttle was clear of the airlock and away, he passed out cold. I’ve never seen Mal or Inara laugh so hard. He literally turned purple. She closely resembled an overturned turtle. Kaylee, out of deference, tried to restrain herself. Tried.

*

It’s hard to talk about murder with someone who won’t stop skipping.

“Did she? River, stop. Stop. Did she?”

“Nope. She made him take an oath.”

“An oath?”

“Yup. A double-barreled pledge, she called it. Said a soul was either capable of anything or guilty of nothing. That one couldn’t have both and it was time for him to decide.”

“And did he?”

“Not ‘til she cocked the hammers.”

“Of course.”

“Of course ‘of course’”.

*

Said the horse. Got a .wav from father today. He was weeping, but it played theatrical and shrill. Purely pro forma. Scanned it for River. She made a wet raspberry sound, then a colorful gesture and said “.Wav this.” I considered it for a delicious second but settled on deafening silence. Or perhaps just to tell him, in extravagant detail, all about Jayne. And not to look for us. We are already home.

Finally. Completely. Home.

Free.

*

“The difference between the right word and the wrong word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.” -Mark Twain

***

(someday #314)

The warrior’s age has passed. Most who lay claim to the title are merely exceedingly violent. They know nothing of honor or code or the stillness found in the face of death. I brought calm. Reason. Order. Order, in a universe where the darkness expands at ever-increasing velocities while the light falls ever back onto itself. Order. It is not the emptiness that devours us, I told myself. It is being.

*

Then came the eyes of a child. A child I had just murdered. A child who asked me not to cry with such a soft, formal voice.

*

Non foras ire, in interiore homine habitat veritas.

*

I dropped my weapon. It was then it happened. . . There are no words. The voice, something pulled sideways in the sky, an avalanche of feeling. . . A general whose lower jaw I once took as a trophy pulled on my sleeve and told me I had been staring at a red-tailed hawk circling above us for the better part of an afternoon. It seemed a short breath to me.

*

Horridas nostrae mentis purga tenebras.

*

That circling, circling, circling raptor.

*

The voice. It spoke to me plain as my telling. “Even here, I am.” That’s what it said. And the comedy? The colossal thing that had me grinning like a simpleton? Somehow, deep in my gut, I knew the voice wasn’t speaking to me. It was speaking to the child. But I was the only one who could hear it. Now.

*

Oh, circling, circling herald of the hurricane. Why does it seem I have a thousand memories of you?

*

Why me?

*

I was at the Battle of Serenity Valley. As close as I can calculate, I murdered 121 Independents there. Came straight out of that wicked sun and swooped down low while they were awaiting evac. Was doing most of them a favor, that’s what I told myself.

Least ways, hardly any ran.

*

I felt the Operative coming. I smelled him on the air. I forgave him, as I forgave all. He doesn’t know it yet but I murdered him as well. God forgive me. It was a reflex and it was the last of my personal demon, pride. Six months, a year at most, and he will die writhing. Seemed the least I could do.

Mal must never know. Mal must run. Run.

*

Men like me are not born but we are born ready. Like the broken stick of a mad scion’s letter-sealing wax. That’s another thing I used to tell myself. Merely something melted and squeezed by a symbol into its final form. A crest familial or stolen, a boon legendary or terrifying, it truly mattered not a whit what signet or why. Its authority, our purpose. We are all one madman or another’s sealing wax. Hmpfh. But this is a cowardice, an ignoble detachment. One must choose. One must.

*

All glory to God, even here in the last flickering shadows.

I choose life.

Even here. Love. Love. Love.

Peace be unto you all. Don’t cry.

*

“The monosyllable of the clock is Loss, Loss, Loss, unless you devote your heart to its’ opposition.” -Tennessee Williams

***

(someday #212 - in which the reader gets to experience Jayne’s idea of a jail break, wherein he, in fact, breaks the jail while making like a half-ass Wotan.)

The Good Book says, “For our contention is not with flesh and blood, but with dominion and authority, with the world-ruling powers of this dark age, with the spirit of evil in things Heavenly.” Yeah. Huh. I like the sound of that.

*

Mal’s in the sling and the thinkin’s up to me. Top story and third cell from the right. Not good. I’ve been watching him through a rifle scope, rotting in that hole. This is exactly why I always carry one with me. Don’t think he’s set much in the last few hours. Gettin’ hanged at dawn ‘ll have that effect on a fella. He wrote a letter earlier and cried some, I think, though I’ll never tell. It’s just so gorram frustratin’. Can’t hardly see him through all the red scrub. So frustratin’. Give me a three foot machete and half an afternoon and I’d clear that fast-growin’ stand out of there, pretty as you please. Maybe get a message to him or something. I don’t know. Wait. Scrub. Red Scrub. Benders. Huh.

*

I quick found some stout rope and an old mining pan. I flattened it out, punched a hole in the middle, scratched a note with my favorite toothpick, threaded the rope through the pan, gave it a few twirls and tossed it up to Mal, real quiet-like. Got it on the first try. Always been lucky, though, when it came to larceny. Mal threaded the rope like the note asked and threw both ends back to me. I tied ‘em around my waste and dog-paddled back across the vicious little crik they got there. Then I quick shimmied up the stoutest scrub I could find, tied one end to the top, set myself and started pulling on the other. Sure enough. I’m a genius. A certified god of the criminal instinct. It’s why my eyes are still drawn like magnets to open windows even though I ain’t had to crawl through one since before I grew shorthairs. If it’s in ya, it’s in ya. Dang, I’m good. Whew Haa. The tree starts to bend and bow and bend the more I pull on it. Before too long my boots are spitting distance from the roof and Mal’s cell. Still no guards or even folks in the street. Not even a yapping mutt and there’s always a yapping mutt. That’s a relief. Too confident, I guess. Pretty moon though.

*

“Cap’n. Hey, Cap’n. You sleepin’?”

“Jayne? What in the name of Stinky Pete… Are you aware you’re sitting on a giant catapult, basically, and that it’ll fling you a country mile if that there rope should happen to slip?”

“Huh? I know. (Not really. Hadn’t honestly occurred to me. Dang.) But I’m bustin’ you out, Cap’n.”

“Jaayyyyynnnee. . .”

“Shh. Trust me, sir. This is what I do.”

“What’s your plan?”

“Across the roof and through the front door. Just, you know, a slightly more vertical approach.”

“Jayne.”

“What? I got three whole bandoliers and a sack of thermals. I’m good to go, Mal.”

“A- there’s a baker’s dozen down there if there’s a one. B- none of them deserves your kind of Christmas visit. Well, maybe one.”

“ ‘Deserve’ ‘s an awful funny…”

“They’re good folk, Jayne. Present circumstances notwithstanding.”

“So you’d rather swing than…”

“I’d rather a lot of things. I’d rather have never shot that kid. I’d rather…”

“What?”

“Get back to the ship…. You got a woman to look after now, Jayne.”

“Aww, that’s low, Mal.”

“I mean it, man. Go. Don‘t argue with me. My story’s over. She’s yours now. Yours and River’s. But mostly River’s. You earned her. I suspect Zoë won’t want her. I suspect she’ll head to high ground once I’m gone. Just one condition.”

“Gorram it, Mal. I ain’t…”

“Inara. . . Track her down for me?… Ask her. . . Tell her she can ride free as long as she wants. . . And could you tell her for me that I would take it as a real kindness if she stuck around for a few whiles… and kept meSerenity company for awhile… Yes, a real kindness. . . . . Tell her… I never felt so alone as when I woke up, knowin’ she was gone… And tell her that I don’t think she’s. . . tell her she’s the realest person I ever met. And the best. Way better than me. I don’t care if she was made in a pickle jar and I don’t care that she’s barren… And Jayne?”

“Yeah, Mal?”

“Don’t let her die inside. Promise me.”

That’s when the rope slipped.

*

“Well, I’ll be. Fortune do favor the humungous, as they say.”

I was back now, at the foot of the wall, him calling down.

“Nice to see you too.”

“Gorram, this whole town must be passed out cold. How far’d you fly?”

“Coupla hundred meters, I reckon. But it’s okay though. Some trees and then a horse broke my fall.”

“A horse?”

“Yeah. Big sucker. Twenty hands, easy.”

“Wow. That is a mite gi-norm-ic. Whatta you suppose they put in the water around here?”

“I don’t know but it tastes like crotch.”

“Okay then.”

“Mal, I’m telling you. I had a moment once I came to. The horse was there, whinnying low and looking at me like it knew my mamma’s name, asking me to finish it. It had knocked into sumthin in the fall, a torch or sumthin and its muzzle was on fire, smoldering like. Smelled revoltin’. It was then I had this moment. It was like I was one with everything in the universe. My whole body shook. I gave that horse the biggest hug I could, said thanks, kissed it even and then I put two in its head.”

“Seriously? Huh.”

“I cried some, Mal.”

“I bet.”

“I figure if all that’s not a sign I’m working for the Big Man now I don’t know what is.”

“Comin’ back here could give it a run.”

“Think nuthin’ of it. Listen I been spying the foundation some. I think we cracked it good. I think we pull these bars out hard enough and this whole south wall is gonna come crashing down. Listen though. You’re gonna have to knot the rope to the bars and if you could loop a sheep shank for my end I’d sure appreciate it. Lost most of the skin on my hands.”

“Say that again.”

I hold up my hands and show them to him all wrapped up in the halves of some fat kid’s shirt I found. Some sort of hideous animal on them. Ugly, ugly horses with humped backs. When I twiddle my fingers it looks like a gorram stampede.

“Lost most of the skin on my hands. Don’t sweat it though. Got the emergency vest Simon made for me. Painkillers cutting the edge some for another four hours or so. C’mon, we gotta go. Folks be stirring soon.”

Mal tied the window bars off while trying to tell me something but, I don’t know if it was the meds or all the blows to the head or what, but suddenly I feel like puking and there’s a huge buzzing noise like diesel skeeters swarmin’ about my head and I can’t hear a word he’s saying. I take my end of the rope and manage to tie it to the pommel with the sides of my paws. “Yah!” I say between my teeth and we’re off. Thought I had it all figured. Cut a hard angle from the window, let the slack play out on the inside left whilst I dropped down to sideride on the right. What I forgot to consider was what would happen to me and this fine colt I stole once we ran out of rope at full steam. Thinkin’ maybe that’s what Mal was trying to tell me. That dang horse snapped back so hard we nearly did a whole flip in the air. I got lucky, like I do, rolled and came up none the worse. Another dead horse though. I give him a quick pat, bow my head and swear an oath never to whip another animal as long as I live. Seemed the least I could do.

Through the dust I can see Mal standing there in shock, the whole dang wall was gone, gone, gone. I yelled at him to hurry and he started to say something when the whole quartersection cracked and gave way. Happened fast. Alarms finally went up, natch, but it was the early phase. Broken dishes and hollering. When you hear somebody barkin’ and boots clomping in rhythm, that’s when it’s time to go. Cleared Mal out of the rubble, no sweat. Checked him. Broken wrist. No sweat, I can brace that on the fly. Legs? Okay. Pat the torso like Simon shown me. No bloating or wet gravel beneath his skin. Nuthin’ too tender. Good. He can travel though he’s out cold. Have to carry him. Uuuhhfff. Never thought I’d be glad he ain’t been eatin’. Nuthin’ but a sack of hay.

It’s six hours to Serenity on foot. Three hours of meds left. The ground between here and there is broken, tough. Gullies and bogs. Prob’ly be dogs at some point. Gonna be a long day. Ah well. What was it pop used to say? Oh yeah.

“All you need is love.”

I like the sound of that. All together now…

***

(someday # 81 - Kaylee Tam vs. The Stone Face Killer Rufus T.)

*

“People, when left alone, can be very kind to one another.” - Daniel Schorr

*

I can’t help but wonder if things mighta hadn’t a gone better if I had set eyes on him before I heard him. Him with that long lost voice I used to love so much back when I was barely a shoot out of the ground. Oh, that deep and lovely rumble. Then I might notta had to stab him. Then I wouldn’t a had to send him on the worst sort of walkabout. If only I’d seen that stare before the sweetly flooding memories of wheat fields under a harvest moon and long, slow horse rides to nowhere. He was a good and kind man once. My first.

*

But that’s not what happened. I heard the boy and that was that. I saw the eyes but I couldn’t really see, ya know? Told myself all sorts of stupidness to push down the dread. But deep down? Deep down I knew. Deep down I was twitching worse than the time I accidentally used Jayne’s special foot powder in my panties. Jerry Lee Jr. knew it too and that tabby cat knows her business.

Rufus T. Coleridge had changed.

*

“Goldilocks, is that you? Goldilocks?”

*

“Has it been that long? You still light up like a dawn from orbit.”

*

“It’s been so long since I’ve had sex I’m afraid they changed the rules.” “Nope. Still the same.”

*

“We call her Jerry Lee Jr. cuz, that pilot, the one I told you about, we were come back from some muck-thumping on his home planet. Exactly a year to the day since he, ya know, passed. We came back on board Serenity and there she was, just a wee kitten sunning herself in his chair and pawing a plastic dinosaur like she’d been there a thousand years. Isn’t she pretty? Tell her she’s pretty.”

*

“Sounds like a complicated relationship.”

“Not for me.”

*

“Well, you know the old cliché, “People, when left alone, can be very kind to one another.”

*

“ Cap’n says there’s a whole ‘verse of difference between ‘outmanned’ and ‘outgunned’.

*

“I like stories where what isn’t on the page is as important as what is.”

*

“Mal says to never be scared, that’s the same as being a monster. I’m more scared of that than anythi. . . What?”

*

“Poor. Baby. Kay. Never had nuthin’ but a dead and crazy mamma and a pop who knows more about the inside of a bottle than he does about workin’, or life or anything for that matter. Poor…little…Lee. Iron law and chit-chat. That’s what you grew up with, isn’t it? Kay-leeee?”

“Stop it.”

“No.”

That’s when I ran. I grabbed Jerry Lee and ran. And ran. And led him straight back to Serenity. Stupid.

*

No one was there. But there’s always supposed to be someone there. I was so scared. I yelled and yelled for someone to come. I could feel the time slipping past. I could feel him getting closer with every second. But I couldn’t think. I could barely breathe. I screamed again but I already knew there was no one. I was going to die alone.

*

He was going to take Serenity. We were already in the air. He was going to steal her and fly her to an orbiting scowl and sell her for scrap. After he split my skull to my bottom teeth, of course. He had his machete over his head and there wasn’t anything I could do. I was even cried out. That’s when he set eyes on Jerry Lee, eyeing him back, like she was sayin’ “Here I am. What’s it to you, bub?”. It upset ol’ Rufus some. In the time he took to try and shoot her, I saw my chance and did what I had to do. I quick wrapped my left leg three times with the tow chain lying next to me and then I kicked him square in the jewels with my right. Then I drove a palm driver straight through his foot.

*

“You’re right. No one is coming to save me.”

“Yeah.”

“One problem though.”

“Yeah?”

“We’re lying on a hatch.”

That was how I sent him to Hell. Express delivery.

You should have seen the look on his face. He seemed relieved.

*

“There was just nuthin’ left of him, Cap’n.”

“It did the same to all of us, Kay, my sweet girl. Somes just couldn’t find a use for it. Somes didn’t care to.”

His back was turned to me but I could tell he went very far away when he said this.

Oh, Captain. I never understood what you fought your way out of. Not ‘til now.

My Captain.

*

Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over garden nights, Death, the gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend Who remembers.

Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches you With a thousand memories, And asks you Beautiful, unanswerable questions. -Carl Sandburg, Under a Harvest Moon

***

(someday #16)

*

“To those human beings in whom I have a stake I wish suffering, being forsaken, sickness, maltreatment, humiliation - I wish that that profound self-contempt, the torture of mistrust of oneself, and the misery of him who is overcome, not remain unknown to them: I have no pity for them because I wish them the only thing which can prove today whether one has worth or not - that one holds on.” - Nietzche

*

The moment is all we have. That is the first thing they teach you in the Academy. Yet the best of us live life as if it were a dream. That’s the first thing I learned from Serenity. I’ll never leave her again. Never again.

We were taught to keep a single shining pearl always spinning in our minds. Once we learned to do this with ease we were taught to think of this jewel as ourselves. Something no one else could touch. This was to help us girls from getting too attached to our customers. I was so very grateful for it once. But if this is indeed true and what we human beings are is defined by what no one else can touch, then the best of us are nothing at all. Nothing at all.

Another Serenity lesson. The Serenity lesson.

*

Astronomy. Psychology. Politics. Art. History. Kundaluni Yoga. Philosophy. Table manners. Music, playing and theory. Languages including Latin, Greek, French, Arabic, Russian , Japanese, Spanish, German and several Chinese dialects. Sewing. Etiquette. Engineering. Firearms. Paleontology (my favorite). Agronomy. Animal husbandry. Fencing. Literature. Potterymaking. Oratory. Dancing (oh, how it used to thrill me to dance in those great halls). Fortune telling (sigh). Biology. Flying. Physics quantum and Newtonian. Calculus. Chemistry. Tai Chi. Design and Architecture. Sewing. Chess. Massage. And yes, even macramé.

Needless to say, there wasn’t a lot of free time around the Academy.

*

River sings as she flies. The two things have become nearly inseparable to her. As she and Jayne are inseparable. At the moment she seems fixated on a song I call “The Dark Don’t Hide It”. I think it’s her own. I asked her if it was and I’m not sure she understood the question. She’d only say it belonged to all of us, myself especially.

It scares me a little that Jayne seemed to understand what she meant by that. Least ways, he looked at me knowingly, scratched his chin and grunted. Deeply unsettling, yet I don’t really mind. Mostly because I never thought I’d live to see the day a man like Jayne Cobb could ache for a woman the way that boy aches and burns for her lightest touch. It’s all over his face. She calls him “baby doll”. When they make love she’s been known to dent the walls with him. He calls her “sugar”. His eight knuckles spell out “River Tam”.

*

“And they told you you were designed, born like this?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“They lied. Look here. See that? Scarring. Your ovaries were removed.”

Removed. Taken. Stolen.

Someone is going to die for this.

*

It feels like white-hot claws are ripping out my insides, twisting and tearing. How many nights have I fallen asleep thinking I wasn’t even real, but merely a warm-blooded plaything, the costliest of toys? How many? Someone is going to die slow for this. I’m going to streak their blood across my face. I’m going to tear their shrieking ghosts to shreds. No. Breathe. Anger solves nothing. Resolve. Will. That is what is required. Will. Find the crooked road, the one true way. You know it’s there. It always is. Think it through. No. No. No. Breathe. Hang on. No. Fiiight.

*

Mal went insane when I told him. And Zoe? I shouldn’t like to meet the thing that stands in her way.

*

The sentry was very effeminate for a sentry. Jayne was quite amused. Mal likened him to the demi-god of wedding planners. He knew who River was right off. I should have anticipated that. Of course he would know. He got down on his knees right there and begged her - begged her - not to rip out his spine and beat him with it. Even I had to laugh a little. Because of his lisp and his operatic throes. And River’s response to all this wailing?

“Got any chocolate?”

Oh for a vid of his face. He froze there for just a bip and then proceeded to furiously pat himself down. I think he was about to give himself a cavity search when she leaned over, calmed him and pulled a single Quasar-crunch bar from his chest pocket.

“How about beer? That’s good too,” added Jayne.

“Well?”

“Umm. Not on me. But I do have the key to the pantry.”

“Done,” she said, taking the key from him and patting him on the head. Then she leaned over and said in a loud whisper, “And you should change your pants now. You smell bad.”

“Okay.”

“Jayne. Go with him.”

“Gotcha, Mal. Be good, sugar.”

“Be bad, baby doll.”

Then they tongue kissed for a ridiculous while and she slapped his behind hard as he walked away. The sentry was aghast. He was a very refined sort.

*

“These are viable, Inara.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“It means they could be fertilized. Right now. Today.”

“ohmygodohmygodohmygodohm…”

“Cap’n, you might want to look to your woman.”

“I’m right there with her, doc.”

“Okay then. Drop your pants.”

“Huh? Okay.”

“Not right there. Stop. Here, take this coffee cup and go behind that screen. And hurry. The AM shift will be here soon.”

“So no pressure then.”

“Absolutely none whatsoever.”

“Only a single chance, one shot so to speak, to make my woman‘s dream come true. To help her become what she never thought she could have.”

“Like I said. No pressure.”

“Mal…”

“Don’t sweat it two seconds, darlin’. I got this.”

“Can I help?”

“No. No. I think tidiness is probably best here, I expect. And you know what you do to me.”

“Okay. . . Mal?”

“Yeah, darlin’ ?”

“I love you very much.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

*

We won’t know for a few days whether or not the procedure worked. Even if it didn’t, just knowing the eggs are there is a profound comfort. Maybe someday, someday soon, I can walk in through the front door and claim all that is mine. Won’t Mal be surprised? Until then, I am content.

I have Serenity.

*

“A poet? That’s easy. A poet is simply a person who knows what the sun’s about when the lights go out. Duh.” -River Tam

***

(someday #17)

*

“Fear is not a force of Nature. Fear is the force of Nature.” - Shan Yu

*

Book has a son and his name is Malcolm. A son who has a thirty-ought double barrel Kaiser about three feet from the back of my head, just out of my reach. Smart boy. But I can tell from the sound of the slide track that it ain’t been oiled in a good long while. Might backfire. They are known for it. Might be worth the risk. Stupid child.

It does blow up in his hands. Good thing for him he was wearing shooting gloves. He looks twenty-five or so. Can’t hardly tell cuz he’s screaming and thrashing around some. I give him a shot to take the edge off and he calms right down, thanks me. At least he’s got manners. Seems he also got a half-story about his father’s demise. Typical for out here.

*

I let Wash die. I could have saved him. I should have saved him. No one can tell me different. I should have been faster. He counted on me and now he’s gone. Period. For a long while I was getting eaten alive by the ‘what ifs’ of the thing. This wasn’t war. It was so much worse. I wasn’t ready for how much worse love makes things. How final. I feel like I been stripped clean to the bone. I was afraid I was going to be stuck in that moment for the rest of my life. That, even worse, that moment was my life. River saved me. Showed me so much. Pointed me home.

*

There have always been more artists than the world can afford. My necklace. My necklace is something I’ve been wearing on my wrist. Wash used to put it on me and take it off me every night. It started out practical cuz the catch is kinda tricky but it soon became so much more. The calm of his touch. His spirit. Oh God.

*

Every night I see him in my dreams. Big rancid crows are plucking out his eyes.

They were beginning to feel as much a part of me as my hair, my past. River’s helped me plenty but I’m still not ready. Not for all the tomorrows and tomorrows. Not for life. Not for anything. And, gorram, don’t those crows know it.

*

I used to think I understood the slow unwinding that awaited me. I thought enough was enough. Then I saw Mal get sucked out of the shuttle hatch at thirty thousand feet and I saw River take three running steps and jump out after him. Jayne would’ve followed right behind her if I hadn’t a grabbed him by the seat of his britches. She brought him down, still not sure how.

*

Book’s Mal fancies himself something of a pirate king. His people do seem to adore him. But he lacks. He lacks plenty. He’s got something cold to prove. He’s too unpredictable. He’s a threat, no doubt about it. But, Lordy, can the man talk. Beautiful, beautiful words. Like honey. He really does make you see beyond the far horizon. Plus? He refers to Badger as a “swag-wavin’ hag”. That one had Jayne on the floor.

*

I got sloppy. Let my guard down and paid for it. Seems my Mal wouldn’t bend on some point of business or other. Book’s Mal decided the best response would be triple-chinned goons stomping me near to death. Honestly? I was a little relieved. Before we got down to it I told him that his father had joy in his heart but he seemed under the impression that circling the drain made for a waltz. That angered him up some. Then I spit in his eye.

*

When I started coming out of it everything was swirling colors and tinny, far away sounds. I panicked for a second until I realized there was bandages over my eyes. I started to feel for my wrist but before I could even get there a pair of strong hands gently grabbed mine and put the necklace in my grasp, caressing my forearm. Jayne. Jayne?!?

*

“Stop right there. What are you doing here? How did you get in here?”

“Me? I am a morning breeze, bad Mal. I am the secret whispered in the deepest, darkest depths. You? You have a pretty tongue. I brought scissors.”

*

I was sucking on ice when River came into the med bay and handed me something wrapped in plain paper. For a second I thought it was his willy. I thanked her and tossed it to Jerry Lee, who feasted merrily.

“Did you actually do anything to his pecker?”

“Oh, I ate that. . . . Kidding. I’m kidding. Sheesh.” Jayne didn’t think this was funny at all. His face turned beet red, he sort of wobbled sideways, clutched his heart, swatted at the air and fell back into a chair. It made me laugh out loud for the first time in a long, long while. And it made me realize the single, burning truth I’ve been waiting so long to hear.

*

I’m ready.

*

“In our estimates, let us take a lesson from kings. The [importance] of hospitality, the connection of families, the impressiveness of death, and a thousand other things, royalty makes its own estimate of, and a royal mind will. To make habitually a new estimate,- that is elevation.” -Emerson

***

(someday #1)

“When I am a veteran with only one eye / I shall do nothing but look at the sky.” - WH Auden

*

River and I were strolling along a bazaar on Alyson. A beautiful something morning, truth be told. Not a care in the world.

“That man over there has come to kill you.”

“What? Which man?”

“That one. The one with the flamingo.”

“I just got here.”

“He has two blasters. And he’s shaky.”

“Great. Anything else?”

“He has mommy issues.”

“Of course he does.”

So I walked up to the guy and tapped him on the shoulder. The second he looked me in the eye I knew River was right. He tried acting it off but I could tell he was squirming with purpose.

“Can I help you?”

“Sure.” That’s when I shot him in the face. I turned to the folks in the area, some fair hard. “Anybody got a problem with that?” I said. Well, he musta won a contest or something cuz I was surprised that some did seem to care. A few of the hardest were even taking steps toward me. I steadied my breath and focused on the front one. Then River cleared her throat and they all just froze as they noticed her peeking out from behind me, sucking on an ice planet. She gave a little wave. They sorta looked at each other. A chorus of ‘nos’ and ‘no problems’ came out as they eased up and shuffled off. I turned toward her with a big smile slapped on my face and talked to her through my very clenched teeth.

“Listen, darling, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your help, cuz I do, but ya gotta throw me a bone here.”

“I go where you go.”

“I get that. But you have to understand…”

“I go where you go. Two steps to the rear and one step to the left.”

“Sigh. You’re not going to give me anything, are you?”

Then she hopped up on a box and gave me a peck on the cheek.

“I love my Captain.”

*

“There’s love and there’s work and then there’s lover’s work.”

“You’re telling me?”

“Good point. Solid point. Feel like some of that ‘there there’ ?”

“Hmmm. Let me think abou… okay.”

“Ahh. Work, work, work.”

*

“And what happened to him?”

“Harvesting accident before I was born. Storms come up quick on Shadow.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. Thanks. It’s okay now. I tell ya though, I would have liked to shake his hand just once.”

*

You can’t treat a horse the way you’d treat most people. You can trust a horse. And I can guarantee they don’t give a damn who you think you are.

*

Inara is getting set to pop. A girl. A daughter. I’m about to be a father. Dad. Huh. God, I hope she looks like her mother. C’mon, Lord. You owe me big time. And now comes the news Kaylee and River are expecting too. And just when poor Kay was starting to lose hope. Oh, how she kicked and cursed herself for all those hours in poorly shielded engine rooms. The weird part? They’re both due on the same day. Jayne’s birthday bash is to blame, I suspect. Things did get a little out of hand. (Still not sure where that goat came from.) Boy, am I not looking forward to the big day. And poor Simon. His eyes are already starting to glaze over when he talks about it and it’s still eight months away. No pressure there.

*

Doc and I were chatting while he examined Kaylee for the cause of her ‘whaleness’ (her words). And it was true. She was already much larger than River and it hasn’t been long at all. He was listening to her stomach when he seemed to hear something curious. Got interested and distracted. Kaylee got nervous but never said a word. You could tell, though, from the look on her face that she was sure it was cancer. Fat cancer.

“And we’re going to need another incubator. Two incubators on board, just in case….just in case we can’t be near an…i…c…an…ic…”

“Two incubators. Check. But, doc, ya gotta understand. This one was pure luck. I’ll make some calls but its not the common order in our work. Might take some…”

“Three incubators.”

“…doing. Three incubators?” “Yes. Three.” Here he brushed the hair from Kaylee’s face and put the stethoscope on her for her to listen. “See? I told you. You’re just too full of life, my sweet girl. Listen… Twins.”

That was the moment. The moment that look -oh, that look!- burst out of that girl’s soul. The moment I could hear my daughter cooing behind me. The moment I could smell my wife (she smells of magnolia), hear the rustle of her kimono. OH. My. That was the moment something twanged. God was alright again.

I was alive again.

*

“Then what is good? The obsessive interest in human affairs, plus a certain amount of compassion and moral conviction, that first made the experience of living something that must be translated into pigment or bodily movement or poetry or prose or anything that’s dynamic and expressive - that’s what’s good for you if you are at all serious in your aims. William Saroyan wrote a great play on this theme, that purity of heart is the one success worth having. “In the time of your life - live!” That time is short and it does not return again. It is slipping away while I write this and while you read it, and the monosyllable of the clock is Loss, Loss, Loss, unless you devote your heart to its opposition.” - Tennessee Williams

***

(someday pies are squared)

They stopped at the crest of the hill and turned to give a last wave. Inara led on a fine black mare. Mal shared his saddle with their daughter, Grace, who waved hardest of all. The oranges and purples of the sunset played all over them and made me wistful. Then they turned back, topped the rise and disappeared into dream. What was it poppa used to say? Oh yeah.

“They lived happily ever after.” I love the sound of that.

All together now…

***

(someday zero)

Even here, I am. . . a leaf upon the wind.

**;-)

THE END In case you missed it, all these somedays have one thing alone in common. Serenity. Hope you liked them.

If anyone wants to link this to another site or in anyway share it with other Browncoats, please do. That’s what it’s here for. Just give credit where credit is due. I, myself, am a complete incompetent, a serious Luddite, when it comes to much of this techno-biz so I‘d take it as a kindness if you did. Of course, any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated. Did anyone get the ‘pies are squared’ joke? I’m dying of curiosity. (Hint? Euclid would find it friggin’ hi-lar-ious.)

AND COMING SOON - “SOMEDAYS, PT. II - ADOBE SPOONS (THE S = k log W Blues)”

Until then, here’s the first page-

Somedays, Pt. II - Adobe Spoons (The S = k log W Blues)

*

“Einstein said the problem of the now worried him seriously. He explained that the experience of the now means something special for man, something essentially different from the past and the future, but that this important difference does not and can not occur within physics. That this experience cannot be grasped by science seemed to him a matter of painful but inevitable resignation.” -Rudolf Carnap

*

It’s the freest I ever been. Weightless, still, serene, reborn even. . . And plummeting planetward at a jillion miles an hour. What else was there to do? The thing had been decided. I felt relief. No one had bought me. No man broke me. It was enough. I even tipped my hat to the Big Monkey for letting me go out flying, sort of. So much pain. Such beauty. The true truth? No one gets it right. Inara was my one regret. I never felt so alone as when I… I had no other thoughts in my head ‘cept the sun on my face. That’s when River tapped me on the shoulder, gave me the cutest little wave.

She would later explain that thermal variances in Van Ness’ atmo, probably due to a crack in the mantle, probably due to incompetent terraforming, helped to create massive but hyper-localized super cells (that’s tornadoes to you and me). Sometimes several per cubic mile. Basically the shuttle got cut in half by a wicked updraft though all we lost was the door. Sounded like the queen mother of all trains.

I was so happy to see her for half a second. She looked so adorable there in the orange morning light. The too big helmet and respirator. Inara’s blue and gold silk flapping like crazy around her free-falling body. Then it hit me. She’s dead too. “We’re going to be fine. Take my hand,” she said over the respirator’s comm. The moment I did lock fingers with her she angled us down, took us faster and directly toward the largest vortex in sight. Now you can call me an oxygen-deprived half-wit for this, but I couldn’t help but smile. The girl’s got style.

*

The flags are still, no wind blows. It is the hearts of men that are in tumult.” - Buddhist saying

***

“I am now the most miserable man living. If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on the Earth. Whether I shall ever be better I can not tell; I awfully forbode I shall not. To remain as I am is impossible; I must die or be better, it appears to me.” -A. Lincoln, 1841

*

“Things fall apart.” “How is that my fault?” “It ain’t nobody’s fault. That’s the point, ya googly-eyed idjit.”

It was Jayne’s first sermon and things were going about as you’d expect. His flock was the crew of a sister Firefly, the “Amores Perroes”. Captain couldn’t be a nicer fella. Stormy Leftwich. Yup, a nicer fella is not to be found. Especially for a one-eyed, one-armed, one-legged skip miner. He says the left-hand war path has shown him some truth. Hard to argue with the man.