Legacy

Spoilers- Up to Objects In Space and the movie. So, you know, all of them. Disclaimer- Don’t belong to me, yadda yadda yadda. You know the drill. Note- I know that there a few dominant ideas to come from the movie, I just hope that this is a bit of a twist. Note2- River probably sounds a bit saner here, but I figure that after the whole Reaver, etc deal she’s found some way of dealing. The brain is an incredible thing ya know.

Translations: hun dan- jerk hwoon dahn- son of a bitch Zao gao- damn it Dong ma?- understand? Dang ran- of course xxx

“I thought I done told you not to show your face in these parts again, Wildclaw.”

“You ain’t got the power to stop me, Sheriff Threehorn.”

“Is that a challenge, you yellow-bellied snake?”

“You man enough to take it, hun dan?”

“Hoban Washburne Junior, you better not be annoying River.”

Hoban jumped, scattering the plastic trees and dinosaurs that took pride of place on the control panel in front of the pilot’s chair, and turned to face his mother. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips and an eyebrow arched at him.

“Aw, Ma! We was just playin’!” He held up the plastic T-rex to show her. “River don’t mind none.”

River grinned at Zoë. “Practice. For Simon and Kaylee.”

Zoë smiled. “Okay, but remember what we agreed? No flying till you’re 14. And no trying to convince River to let you have a turn. Remember what the Captain said.”

Hoban sighed. “I never get to have any fun.”

“That’s what I’m here for, Sweetie. You two seen the Captain? We have to get the stuff ready for Boros.”

Hoban shrugged. “Last I saw he was with Inara.”

River shrugged. “Won’t land on Boros till tomorrow. Is it important?”

Zoë shrugged. “Suppose not. Just rather get it done is all.” Zoë paused on her way out. “Half an hour before bedtime, Hoban.”

“Ma!”

“No arguments.”

Hoban turned to River, his pout turning into a grin as Zoë left the bridge.

River wagged a finger in front of his nose. “Mother said no.”

Hoban pouted. “Man, no one lets me have any fun around here.”

xxxxx

The sound of Zoë’s happy laughter bounced off the dinning room walls.

“Wash! When are you gonna put that thing down?”

“Not yet. I just wanna get a couple a pictures. A day like this has to be remembered.” The sheer happiness and laughter could not be contained in his voice. “My warrior woman has finally made an honest man outta me.”

Sitting at the table Zoë wiped a tear away as it fell. The capture continued to play.

“Well then, husband, are you gonna get yourself in this picture?”

The picture shook as Wash moved around, coming to loop an arm around Zoë’s shoulders. They both smiled for the capture and Zoë leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good day,” He commented. “Should be a holiday or something.”

Capture Zoë laughed. The capture stopped, reverting to the original photo of Zoë, caught mid laughter at the antics of her newly wed husband.

“Ma?”

Zoë wiped her eyes and turned to face her son. “Hey, baby. What are you doing up?”

Hoban shrugged. “Had a bad dream.”

Zoë placed the capture on the table and held out her arms for him. Normally he would have sighed and made a fuss before readily embracing his mother but now he went eagerly, drinking in her warmth and comfort as she stroked his hair and back.

Six months ago some hwoon dahn had kidnapped Hoban, thinking the nine-year-old boy to be an easy target and the perfect way to get revenge on the people that spoiled his nice little slaving project. What he hadn’t counted on was a furious mother who had been in the war, the man hadn’t counted on the gun strapped to Zoë being more than ornamental, and boy howdy had he regretted that lack of knowledge. Jayne bursting the door down, Vera in hand, and the rest of the crew trailing out from behind him hadn’t helped the man’s cause none either.

“Whatcha watching?”

“A capture. Of the day your daddy and me got married.”

Hoban looked up at her, his big eyes the exact replica of his father’s. “Can I see?”

“Sure, baby.” She pulled him into her lap, resting her chin on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be too big for this soon. Then what am I going to do? My little boy’s growing up.”

“Aw, ma!” Hoban wiggled in her lap uncomfortably.

Zoë laughed. “Okay, okay.”

She picked up the capture. The movement started it and once again the room was filled with the sound of Zoë’s laughter.

xxxxx

Mal stormed into the dining room. His expression fierce enough to scare those who hadn’t known him and fought aside him for years.

"Hey, Cap'n."

Mal turned to face Kaylee, who had settled herself into one of the plush chairs. Sitting, her bump was much more noticeable, even with the coveralls she still insisted on wearing.

Almost instantly, Mal’s expression changed became softer and a smile spread over his face. "Kaylee, what are you doin' here? I thought the doc was gonna do a full systems scan or somethin'."

Kaylee gave him a look. "I already had my physical. Baby's doin' just fine."

"That's good to hear.” Mal settled into a chair next to her. “So, are we gonna have another mechanic pattering round here or another doctor?"

Kaylee grinned happily. "I don't know. I kinda like the idea of being surprised. And Simon don't know neither so don't you go buggin' him."

Mal leaned back in his chair and laughed lightly. "Damn, foiled again."

"When are you and ‘Nara gonna have kids, Cap'n?" Kaylee asked Mal, running her hands over her slightly rounded stomach.

Mal’s smiled turned cynical. "When that special hell Shepherd Book always spoke of freezes right on over."

Kaylee pouted. "You really don't want kids? I think they're cute."

"Sure, cute as a button 'til they learn to cuss and fiddle with Serenity's controls, and just plain be smart alecky." Mal scowled.

Kaylee smiled. "Hobie again?"

"Still'd be more like."

Kaylee’s smile turned into a grin. "There you go then, Cap'n. Lotsa practice."

Mal eyed her stomach. “I think we got plenty of babies around here already.”

“Aw, c’mon, Cap’n. One more won’t hurt.” Kaylee bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back her smile. “Hey, Jayne.” She gave the man a little wave as he entered the room.

He grunted back.

“That’s what they all say.” Mal pushed himself to his feet; warily eyeing the arsenal Jayne had bought with him. “Well, this boy ain’t gonna find himself.”

"Go easy on him, Mal. He's just a kid."

Mal ran his thumbs under his braces. "Hey, you know me. I'm as sweet as pie."

Jayne chuckled. "Pie filled with lemon curd."

Mal scowled. "Mind yourself Jayne."

xxxxx

Mal peered down into Zoë’s bunk.

“You lookin’ for me, sir?”

Mal jumped as the words were spoken into his ear. He whirled around and cleared his throat. “No, actually. You seen that son o’ yours, Zoë?”

Zoë sighed. “What’s he done now, sir?”

“Well, seems he likes the autopilot feature on Serenity. Programmed it to take us in a nice slow circle. Made us all kinds of late for the drop off. Badger is not going to be happy.”

“And you can’t just revert back to manual? Reprogram it?”

“That’d be nice, wouldn’t it,” Mal drawled. “No, Junior’s gone and rigged her up with a doozy of an encryption. ‘Less he shuts it off himself, we’re gonna continue the orbit we’re stuck in.”

“Orbit of what, sir?”

“Lots and lots of nothin’. Kid’s got us doin’ loops of empty space. And River won’t do a damn thing to fix it. Just keeps tellin’ me that I shouda let her give him flyin’ lessons.” Mal scowled.

Zoë could no longer hold it in. Peals of laughter burst from her throat and filled the halls.

Mal sighed. “See, I knew you’d find this funny. Me, on the other hand, I’m a tad concerned. Bad enough that River can out-pilot me, now I got a ten-year-old who knows more bout my ship than me. Startin’ to think Serenity don’t like me no more…”

xxxxx

Quietly, Mal walked along the steel platforms in the cargo bay. Whatever Zoë said bout him during the war, he knew what stealth was and knew enough to use it on the right occasion.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a flash of sandy brown hair.

“I know you’re in here, Junior. May as well come out now and save me from havin’ to search for ya.” Mal crossed his arms. “Makin’ me wait would be a bad idea.”

Hoban stepped out from behind a stack of crates. “Zao gao,” he muttered. “You won’t hurt me.” Hoban raised his head defiantly. “My mother would hurt you. She’s not scared of you like Jayne is.”

“No, she ain’t,” Mal agreed. “And no I wouldn’t hurt you. But I am the captain on this here boat and like it or not you will listen to me just like everyone else does.”

“Everyone just lets you think they listen to you.”

Mal paused, clearly flummoxed. “You do that then, Junior. Least it'd be doin' somethin' resemblin' what I ask ya. But,” he rallied himself, “you fix that auto pilot. We got all these crates waitin’ to be dropped off to Badger and I’m feelin’ ‘em like a lead weight around my neck. Now, you go on up and get everything straightened up and I’ll think about shortenin’ them age restrictions on the flyin’ lessons. Dong ma?”

Hoban sighed deeply. “Dang ran.”

Mal watched as Hoban stomped up the steps in those heavy boots that the crew seemed to favour. Didn’t seem like that long ago that Mal was tuckin’ him in at night with some story or another, watchin’ over him when Zoë was sick or injured.

Every time Hoban would look up at him, his eyes so big and sincere in that little face. “Mal, was my pa a hero?”

Mal would sit on the edge of his bed and give him a weary smile. “In every way a hero could be, Junior.” He’d catch the grimace on Hoban’s face. “I know you don't like me callin' ya that, but I only say it 'cause you're a junior Wash.”

Hoban would play with his bedclothes. “Yeah, I have his name.”

Mal would pat him on the knee. “It's more than just in name, Junior, more than just his name.”

And, gorrammit if he wasn’t right. Some of the things he said, damned if Mal didn’t turn around to snap at Wash not realizing that ten years had passed and Wash was long gone and buried.

Mal cleared his throat, catching Hoban’s attention. “Way I see it, you're the spittin' image of your pa. Right down to the rollin' of your eyes that you think I can't see. Your daddy was a fine pilot, a great man and a greater friend. You, Junior, you're family. So abide my words and get your chores finished up. Best not have me gettin' all crotchety.” Mal warned, playfully.

A small smile played on Hoban’s lips. “You're always crotchety.”

“I am not!”

“Are too… and my momma can kick your ass.”

“Not that your wrong, but who taught you to say 'ass'? Actually don't answer that. Jayne!”

xxxxx

Simon looked up from his tray of freshly sanitized instruments as Hoban walked into the infirmary. “So, are we back on course?”

Hoban put his hands in his pockets and kicked the floor, scowling fiercely. “Yes.” He looked up at Simon and started to stare at him.

Simon shifted uncomfortably. “So…”

An instrument on the tray in front of Simon glistened, catching Hoban’s attention. Hoban picked up an instrument and started to look at it. He moved it around under the light, studying its dimensions and the way it shined.

“What’s this do?”

”That’s a-” Simon paused. “Why are you here?”

“I live here.” He looked up at Simon with an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Yes, well so does everybody else but they don’t barge in and play with my instruments.”

“Jayne does.”

Simon grimaced. “Yes, and the last time he did he almost lost a finger.” Gorram man-ape-gone-thing nearly broke his scanner too, he just wouldn’t learn.

Hoban shrugged. “So, what does this do?”

“That sews boys mouths shut when they annoy people,” Simon explained, thoroughly becoming sick of answering the boy’s questions, and feeling not just a bit sadistic.

Hoban's eyes lit up. “Shiny! Show me!”

“You want your mouth sewn shut?”

Hoban considered this for a second before his face lit up again. “Well, guess not... we can get Jayne. Ain't no one on this boat'd have a problem with it. 'Sides I know you'd enjoy it.” He smiled charmingly at the doctor.

Simon’s eyes widened, that was a far too tempting offer. “I was joking! It's for...”

“For what?” Hoban was quickly becoming impatient.

“For females... when they're pregnant.”

Hoban screwed up his nose and quickly dropped it. “Eww!” He wiped his hands on his pants. “Gorrammit! Gross. Girl cooties!”

Simon grinned at the expression of disgust on Hobie’s face. “Give it a few years. You won't mind.”

“Why?” His face was still screwed up in disgust, but his thirst for knowledge and genuine puzzlement won over.

Simon looked flustered. He hadn’t expected to be the one giving this talk. “Well, upon the beginning of puberty the male-“

Hoban rolled his eyes. “Never mind. I'll ask Jayne.”

xxxxx

Hoban strolled into the dining room and flopped into one the seats around the table. Jayne’s guns were spread out over the table, and slowly, methodically, Jayne dissembled, cleaned, oiled and reassembled each one. Jayne barely twitched as Hoban sighed.

“Jayne, you like girls right?”

“For certain things, why?”

“I wanna know about 'em.”

Jayne looked over at him and smirked. “Ain't nothin' I can tell ya that wouldn’t get me killed by your ma.”

Hoban grunted in frustration. “Gotta be somethin’.”

Jayne furrowed his brow as he ran a cloth over a small pistol. “Ok.. lemme see... never kiss 'em on the mouth.”

Hoban watched as Jayne reassembled a gun with quick, précise, and practiced movements and reached for his knife. “What else?”

Jayne scratched his chin with his knife. “Well, there's a certain time of the month you want to avoid 'em all together, less you want somethin' thrown at ya.”

“Why?”

Jayne shrugged. “Dunno, they go crazy. I finds it best to leave 'em in peace.”

Hoban’s hand slowly moved towards the guns. “What else?”

“Watch out for the really purdy ones like your Mom and Inara. Women like them-“

“Jayne, what in the good grace of Buddha, do you think you're doing?” Inara stood in the doorway, every inch of her radiating her anger.

Hoban quickly pulled his hand away from the table and smiled up at her. “Jayne was teachin' me bout women.”

Jayne scowled. “See and there's somethin' else about women. You don't never tell 'em the truth!”

Inara sneered at him. “Jayne, you should never show them your face.”

Jayne leered at her. “Ain't my face they interested in anyways.”

“Well, small things amuse small minds, I guess.”

Jayne pouted. “Ain't no call to be like, Inara.”

“He's a kid, Jayne!”

In the fighting, neither Inara or Jayne noticed as the subject of their argument snuck out of the room, his shirt somewhat more lumpier than usual.

“So? He oughta be learnin' 'bout women!”

Inara threw up her hands. “He's ten!”

“So was I when I first learned about ‘em.”

“And look how you turned out!”

Jayne glared at Inara. “I turned out just fine,” he said defensively.

“When can I get sexed up already?” she asked him mockingly, bringing up another source of their arguments, one that had been going on for near ten years.

“They was whores, 'Nara. It's their job, what they do, sides I fought for 'em didn't I?”

“You don't know people, Jayne You don't see people as people.”

“I see all people as people, I just like the ones with the right curves.”

Mal entered the dining room, his brow furrowed. “I hear you two clear out to the bridge. What's the matter?”

“Jayne was so graciously teaching Hobbie about women.” Inara gave Jayne a triumphant smirk.

Mal raised an eyebrow. “Well, now. Ain't that interesting. Thought Zoë warned you bout you filling that boy's head with your thoughts.”

"The kid likes me." Jayne stated proudly.

"He likes Vera, Jayne. Speaking of..." Mal looked at Jayne’s arsenal, failing to locate the aforementioned gun.

Jayne looked around the table where his guns were spread out for cleaning. "Hey, where is she?"

Mal scowled. "Gorram kid! Now I'm crotchety!"

xxxxx

Zoë smiled as she watched her son ran through Serenity, Mal and Jayne in close pursuit, his bursts of laughter warming her heart. In that dark time after she just lost Wash there had been many a night she cried herself to sleep, believing that she had nothing left of him, that she was well and truly alone for the first time in years. But the months passed and her stomach swelled.

Inara and the doc had kept a close eye on her, making sure they always had fresh foods, or vitamins in case they didn’t or Jayne accidentally ate it all. Mal had taken her off an active role in jobs; she was ‘public relations’, after all a ship with a pregnant woman on board had to be safe. Kaylee and River had kept her company on those long nights when the memories were overwhelming and the babe was kickin’. Even Jayne had been real nice, though he complained mighty bitterly after the birth. Put him offa women for months he claimed, and the broken hand didn’t sweeten his disposition much either.

Zoë leaned over the over a railing in the cargo hold, grinning as Hoban evaded Jayne by scampering over a stack of boxes. He looked so much like Wash, there wasn’t much of her there except for a cocoa tinge to his skin and the sandy brown of his hair. It wasn’t just looks neither, how a person could act so much like another without having ever met ‘em…

“Gorramit, little man. You get back here!”

“Jayne! Don’t hurt him.”

“I ain’t gonna hurt him. I’m just gonna wring his neck until he tells me where Vera is.”

Hoban laughed. “You need brains to find Vera, Jayne. So you best be gettin’ someone else to look for her!”

Jayne growled. “He’s mockin’ me! Bein’ a gorram upstart.”

“Hoban Junior, you stop harassing Jayne,” Zoë called down with laughter in her voice.

“But it’s fun, ma!” Hoban called back up to her with a cheeky grin just like his father’s.

“Kid has got a point,” Mal smiled.

Zoë sighed. Sometimes, most times, she wished Wash was here. He couldn’t be prouder if he raised him himself.

“We did good, husband.”

Wash watched his wife watching their son. “Yes, we did.” He brushed an incorporeal thumb over her cheek, trying to catch the single tear that fell.

Zoë shivered and rubbed her cheek. Sometimes, at times like this, she could swear that he was still here.

xxx

End