Imperfect

I've got some imperfections But how can you collect them all and throw them in my face

She can feel his gaze on her and she hates it.

Closing her eyes, she takes a soothing breath, and when she opens them again, their depths are calm sea of warmth directed at her client. Stockholm Parish.

He’s rail thin and wiry, the sort that doesn’t normally appeal to her, and his eyes are a blank slate. With barely any thought, she knows what he wants and that she can give it to him.

Will give it to him.

His cold hand slides across her shoulder to cup her neck, his finger tips digging into her sensitive flesh, just tight enough not to leave bruises. It’s in her contract.

No marks.

She leans into him, letting the curves of her body melt against the hard planes of his, forcing heat when all she feels is chilled.

The icy stare from across the room drags across her skin, sharp points digging in and drawing blood. She can feel the hatred and the anger spiking off him from all the way across the room, clouded by the sting of one to many misunderstandings left unexplained.

Without sparing him a glance, she knows that he stands still and silent, cataloguing every touch, every whisper, every coy smile from beneath heavy lashes. He finds fault in every nuance of her performance.

But only because it is perfect.

Once River is safely aboard and Serenity is tucked into the black, far from these monsters with blood on their hands, she’ll feel the lash of Mal’s tongue. Caustic words to burn her, eyes sharp as daggers tipped with poison.

He’ll damage her with words just the same as her client will his fists.

Stockholm Parish and Malcolm Reynolds are truly no different. They lash out with violence, be it emotional or physical, because they cannot withstand the pain within.

So she shall be the one to bear it.

. . . . . . . . .

Bend and Not Break and you're so independent you just refuse to bend so I keep bending till I break

Zoe sat on the catwalk outside of Inara’s shuttle, her legs dangling over the abyss of the cargo hold, her eyes closed. She didn’t mean to, but she could almost hear Wash’s voice echoing off the walls. There truly was no place within the ship that didn’t carry his memory.

She’d seen many men die before. Hundreds upon thousands of young men and women with so much left undone in their short lives. The life drained from them into obscurity and their names escaped the memories of the living. Those lives should have haunted the living.

They hadn’t and she’d long ceased to believe in ghosts.

“Not a ghost.” River appeared below her in the cargo bay, and Zoe had long since ceased to be surprised at the girl’s ability to materialize out of no where. “Guilt.”

“Learned to bend in the wind, roots went deeper because the wind was stronger.” She glared up at Zoe, hands on hip. “Selfish to think he broke because of you. Loved you first, but loved us all last. Guilt makes brittle what was once strong. He bent to teach you how.”

She disappeared as quickly as she came and Zoe could feel the shadows heavy at her back. Closing her eyes, he leaned into them.

. . . . . . . . .

This Kinda Life

I'm willing to bleed for you

Kaylee had seen blood before, living on Serenity going on three years now, weren’t no help for it. Even got shot that one time herself. But she hadn’t ever had to touch the blood. Always before, Mal and Zoe had tended each others wounds, years of battlefield practice honing their skills. And Jayne always managed to come outta their scrapes with barely a nic. Then Simon came along, and seemed like the bleeding came more frequently, but he always patched everyone up near perfect again.

She was used to seeing blood, but there was always someone else to stop it.

Now, there was just her. Just her and Jayne and his blood boiling hot enough to burn her fingers, pressed tight into the gaping wound in his chest. His blood, at the same time sticky and slick, caked her hands and her clothes, the metallic scent hanging in the air between them as she tried to staunch the flow from a bullet meant for her.

“Kaylee…”

She saw red wherever she looked. “Shhh, Jayne, it’s okay. Soon as Simon’s done with the Cap’n, he’ll take care of ya.”

Glancing to the left, a few yards away she could see Simon hunched over the Captain through her tears, Zoe at his side as an impromptu nurse. Just beyond them Wash stood with his hands folded across his chest, as though he were trying to hold himself in. Book just beside them, struggling to hold onto a hysterical River, her mouth open with silent screams.

Jerking her eyes away, she focused on Jayne. She couldn’t bear to watch Simon choose one life over another.

“Always knew it’d happen like this.”

The pounding in her heart matched the gush of blood between her fingers. “Shh, you’ll be fine,” she tried to sound confident. Tried not to hear the gurgling in his chest get louder. “Don’t’ talk. Gotta conserve your energy.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to conserve,” he whispered through lips too pale.

She imagined the flow of blood under her hands was slowing, she feared it was for the wrong reason. “You’ll be fine, Jayne,” she promised, a sob breaking from the ache in her chest. “You’ll be fine. I know it. Simon can…”

He managed to raise his hand just far enough to touch her thigh, his thumb movin’ back and forth over her stained coveralls, attempting to comfort her.

“Ain’t sorry,” he forced his eyes open. While every other part of him was so pale it scared her, his eyes were the most vivid blue she’d ever seen.

His breathing was getting worse, wheezy and labored and she found she couldn’t breathe either. He took his time, making sure his last words came out right. “You’re the only thing in this ‘verse worth bleedin’ for.”

. . . . . . . . .

Common Ground

I see you walkin’ real slow and you’re smilin’ at everyone I can tell you my love for you will still be strong After the boys of summer have gone

Kaylee’s got a smile that don’t run out.

‘Course, probably ain’t been happier than she is right now. They landed down on Haven for a month long stay, and she was the first one off the boat. She walked straight into a throng of people, mostly male people, eager to be on the receivin’ end of that smile.

Haven’s mostly made up of miners, lotsa men and only a few women, and theys got kids three deep hangin’ from their apron strings. So Jayne knows that Kaylee’s gonna be right popular this month.

Serenity don’t usually stay long in any one place, but Mal’s got an inkling they oughtta lay low for a while after that last job, and they got coin enough to go to ground for a space. Be the first time they stayed anywhere more’n a week.

He don’t think it’ll take Kaylee long to find a lover to warm her bed. Been a long time for her, waitin’ on the Doc to open his eyes without gettin’ nothin’ in response. The way them men, both young and old alike, are gathered ‘round her, he knows she’s got her choice. Wouldn’t surprise him if’n she took more’n one to her bed, she was generous like that.

Men loved Kaylee, and Kaylee loved men. Old and young and every age in between… ‘cept for maybe him.

An’ even that couldn’t stop him from lovin’ her. He’d dare anyone not to love a girl with a smile like that.

Jayne found himself lingering on Serenity’s ramp while the rest of the crew headed on into town, followin’ Kaylee and her legion of admirers.

Then there was just he and Simon left, standin’ a few yards a part. Silence reigned for all of a moment before Simon spoke.

“Do you think she’s going to--”

“Yep.”

Pause.

“I thought she--”

“She did.”

“Then why is she--”

“Wasn’t gonna wait on you forever, Doc.” Jayne interrupted, wondering how long Simon was gonna force him into conversation. “Girl’s got needs.”

“I just thought that she’d have more self-restraint than that.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with makin’ love where ya can find it.”

Simon is quiet for a long time, and when he spoke again, his next words were slow and measured. “And you’re okay with this?”

He oughtta punch the doc’s lights out for implyin’ that he had feelin’s for Lil’ Kaylee. ‘Cept the Doc was right and it was probably the only thing the two of ’em had in common.

Glancing side long at Simon, he looked forward again, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets and lit it. “Was okay enough when she was lustin’ after you, wasn’t I?”

“That’s debatable,” Simon muttered under his breath.

Jayne took a drag from the cigar and then offered it to Simon, “She can spend all the time she wants with these boys, but summer’s end, she’ll be comin’ home.”

Simon twisted the cigar in his fingers, watching the smoke curl from the end with a thoughtful frown, “It’ll be different.”

“If your feelin’s get changed by any this, then they weren’t strong ‘nough to begin with.”

Simon put his mouth around the cigar, inhaling a deep drag before handing it back to Jayne with a smooth exhale. “Didn’t mean her. I meant between you and I.”

“Doubt it. Jus’ cause ya know I love her don’t change the fact she ain’t ever gonna look on me that way. Only competition you’ll have is the memory of them boys out there.“ He smirked at Simon, “I got my odds on them.”

“You love her?”

“Said so, didn’t I?“ He took another drag from the cigar and then offered it back to Simon.

Face awash with something greatly resembling shock, Simon looked down at the cigar in hand. “Huh.”

“Don’t gotta look so surprised.”

“I’m not. Not really. Only, I just didn’t expect you to admit it. Least of all to me.”

“Maybe I just figured for once, we’re on common ground, Doc.”

Sighing softly, Simon passed the smoke back. “It would seem so.”

. . . . . . . . .

Showtime

I can see you Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun

He doesn’t mean to look. But there’s just something about the woman that draws his eyes like a magnet. Couldn’t seem to find it in him to care that she was fierce and wild and dangerous and would most likely kill him if she knew he was watching.

They were on one of the backwater moons that Mal liked to frequent. Bester was still struggling with the engine, or he at least made lots of noise and cursed frequently enough to make them thinking he was struggling with it. Wash had his doubts.

There was a lake not far from where Serenity was landed and Mal and Zoe had dispersed hours ago, looking for work to keep them occupied while they were landlocked, leaving Wash on his own. It’d been a long time since he’d taken a swim, and the lure of the water was too much.

Apparently, Zoe was of the same mind.

He wasn’t normally one for voyeurism, but while his brain kept sending warning signals to his feet to get moving already, they just weren’t listening. Nor were his eyes, fixed solidly on the expanse of brown skin that glistened in the sun, droplets of water meandering over hills and valleys he hadn’t more than dreamed existed.

She was graceful in the way no woman he’d ever known was. She completely lacked artifice, striding from the water with smooth, confident steps that were perfect in their conservation of movement. Her wild mass of hair curled thick and wet down her back as she toweled off and dressed. There was no rush to her movements, no urgency, she left no speck of skin untouched.

And still, Wash didn’t move.

Not even when she began striding up the path straight toward him. Of course, that was the fear keeping him frozen in place, not the lust. The fear was all for nothing, because she strode past him, eyes focused straight ahead. The only acknowledgement he got were the words drifting back to him on the breeze.

“Next time, you’re the one giving the show, Pilot.”

. . . . . . . . .

The Night Before

Remember how you made me crazy? Remember how I made you scream?

“Mal?”

“Hmmm?”

“We’re not dead.”

“Wha-huh?” The speed with which he went from dead asleep to fully alert would have amused her under different circumstances. Under these, however, she was devastatingly mortified.

“I said, we’re not dead.”

“I, uh, can see that,” he sprung away from her. The space where his body had warmed hers flooded with the cool rush of reality.

He was seeing a lot more than that, and she quickly gathered the blankets around herself. “What do you suppose happened?”

“Um. Kaylee found someway to fix the engine so it didn’t blow up?”

She shouldn’t have expected his brain to function clearly after the night before. Oh, God. The night before…

Desperate hands. Slick skin. Moist, heady kisses. Crazy promises. His name, a scream echoing off the walls.

“What are you thinking?” Mal asked unexpectedly, his shoulders gone stiff.

Still shocked by the memories rapidly filtering back to her, she answered honestly. “That last night didn’t happen.

Silence.

“Fine.“ And then he was moving faster than she thought possible. “Didn’t happen.”

“Mal--” She wanted to reach out for him, but found she couldn’t. Fearful that he wouldn’t stay or that he would, she couldn’t say.

“I got a ship to run. You got… a destination to reach.”

“I didn’t--”

“Mean to?” He shrugged, “Desperate times, I know how goes. ‘Fraid to say, it wasn‘t that memorable, ‘Nara. “ He was already heading for the door. “Forgotten already.”

He was gone before she could assemble a reply, the words slipping past her lips on a sigh.

“I’ll remember. Always.”

. . . . . . . . .

Listening

I can do it with instruments I can do it with my own bare hands

Serenity was hurtin’.

That much was certain. Just what parts were in pain though, that was somethin’ else entirely.

Tools and diagnostic instruments were spread out around her like confetti as she sat cross legged on the floor, her hands empty as she surveyed her choices. She had no way of knowing what one to use. There were even some tools here that she ain’t never seen before, let alone knew how to use.

The Cap’n was gonna throw her off soon as they landed for sure.

She dug her nails into the fabric on her coveralls. She liked it here. Flyin’ out in the black, goin’ on adventures the likes she couldn’t o’ imagined back home. And she liked the crew, the pilot with his smart mouth and friendly smile. Zoe who was so strong and serious, but would sneak her a smile when no one was looking’. An’ the Captain, he was the one who took her away from a borin’ future of poppin’ out babies an’ scraping by with next to nothing.

Well, she weren’t gonna let that happen. She closed her eyes tryin’ to focus on the engine and all it’s parts. Pictured the way they moved and the way they sounded.

If she listened really hard…

Her eyes flew open and she grinned, leaping to her feet, throwing back the casing on the engine and peering inside.

“Yes!”

. . . . . . . . .

Jezebel

this is jezebel in hell

She still looked the same.

The moment Saffron heard the name Serenity, she’d felt an excitement suffuse her blood. She’d waited in the parlor only long enough to find which berth the ship was in before venturing out into the busy streets to investigate.

Serenity looked exactly the same since she saw it last, on Verbena. And before that on the moon outside of Glasgany. The boat was forever consistent, even as she searched the vessel for some insignificant detail to prove otherwise. The consistency of both ship and captain ground on her nerves and secretly pleased her. She watched as the ramp was lowered and the crew emerged.

Kaylee and Jayne were first, the latter checking his weapons as they left together. Zoe and Wash lingered behind with the Captain before leaving the ship. She could only assume that Simon and River were secreted away somewhere aboard.

That left Mal, standing on the ramp, one thumb tucked negligently in his gun belt, scanning the crowd flowing upstream and down. She wondered if he somehow knew she was there.

His eyes passed right over where she stood in the shadow of the post office and she released a pent up breath. It was better he didn’t know of her presence, even if it took away some of the challenge.

Smiling, she melted into the shadows before slipping off in the direction Jayne and Kaylee had gone. If she was careful, she might learn something of their plans while in port. Any luck, she would learn enough to throw a wrench into their plot, and if not, at least discover their next destination.

Hard for her to believe that her first encounter with Malcolm Reynolds was over three years ago. Since that first time they’d tangled more than a dozen others. The last of which left her with a concussion and a rather prettily shaped scar just below her breast. She smiled to think of it. Getting the best of Mal Reynolds had become a game to her a long while back. But she’d long since stopped keeping score.

Saffron didn’t bother to analyze her fixation on Serenity and it’s Captain. She knew herself well enough to know the obsession for what it was.

Her own special brand of love.

. . . . . . . . .

Like an Angel

I can do it like an angel To quiet down your rage

Sanity was a sea aboard Serenity. It ebbed and flowed between the people inside her, the tide pulling River this way and that, so that when insanity reigned among the crew, her mind was pristine and clear.

And she hated it.

Hated that her sanity had a price. Hated herself for loving those precious times when her mind wasn’t a prison of visions and voices and emotions that weren’t her own. It hadn’t always been that way. Before Miranda, she was overwhelmed by the oceans aboard Serenity, they drowned her in their turmoil. She only existed to surface now and then, clinging to the buoy that was her brother for a few precious moments before sinking beneath.

Miranda taught her to swim.

When the oceans were quiet, she floated along with only her mind to keep her occupied. And it was a scary place, the vestiges of voices and thoughts still clung like veils, and she couldn’t ever know if she was truly her own self.

When the oceans were fraught with waves and rain and wind so loud it wailed, she swam. Lifted her head above water and slipped from her mind, into the seas around her. And she was herself, once again.

The Captain had taught her that love kept them flying. But what he didn’t know was that love too, kept her sane. The Captain didn’t believe in faith, but River did. Book had taught her that. And River had learned that the tides of sanity moved between them for a reason.

When she was sane, it was because her family was needful of her.

Jayne was needful of her.

She found him in the cargo bay, dismantling the weight bench with his bare hands. His fingers were torn and bloody from trying to twist the screws loose without a wrench, the task made more difficult now that the metal was slick with his blood. A bottle of whiskey lay overturned beside him, a few drops splashed across the floor.

His thoughts were slow, more sluggish than normal, but they weren’t of interest to her. The rage burning beneath, white hot and vicious held her captive.

She descended slowly, the edges of her dress fluttering around her legs. Her voice was soft, but it swept through the cargo bay and into Jayne’s misery, “What are you doing?”

“Wha’s it look like I’m doin’?” He growled, his eyes flashing fury that found a home on her.

“Breaking your heart.”

“Don’t gotta heart.” He sneered at her, his fingers digging into the padding of the bench and ripping it off, leaving bloody fingerprints across the metal.

She approached, her smile angel soft and delicate, “It’s drowning in alcohol, trying to fight it’s way for air. But you keep flooding it. Flooding Jayne.”

His glower was menacing, even through the haze of drunkenness, but it was directed at the weight bench and not at her.

“What use ‘re muscles if they can’t…”

“They can.”

“They can’t!” He roared at her, his eyes screaming. “They didn’t!”

She should have been scared. Any other human faced with Jayne in such a state would have been, but River understood his pain and she reached out instead of running.

Her fingers slipping lightly over his shoulders, feeling the heat and the anger burning his skin. Tracing the muscles along his arms, she exerted light pressure, pushing him gently back. “These muscles did.”

He moved back, shocked that she’d dare lay a hand on him, and she pressed further, sending him onto his back. She followed the path of her hands, smoothing over his chest, feeling the muscles flex beneath. “And these muscles did.”

Like cool water, she covered his body with her own, dampening the flames of anger and agony licking at his soul, leaving only coals to smolder in memory of those lost.

Tucking her ear to rest over his heart, she sighed as her eyes drifted closed, “This body did.”

. . . . . . . . .

Numb

Incendiary glance Be come and collide in me

She’d never liked waiting.

It wore on her like a water on stone, slowly grinding away until sand was all that was left. Patience was the one skill she never quite mastered at the training house on Sihnon. Instead, she’d used her other skills to disguise the fact that being left to wait made her wish to scream from the top of her lungs.

This instance, more than ever.

A dozen feet away, River stood her forehead pressed to the large glass panels looking in on the opulent surgical suite where multiple operations were taking place. Every few seconds, she would move down a few paces, her large brown eyes moving from Simon to Mal to Zoe and back again.

She turned, her eyes passing over the opposite wall to the door to the room Kaylee was in, laying unconscious as the poison was filtered from her system. Numbly, she looked away.

Her reverie was startled as the door opened, and Jayne slipped into the hallway, a sling supporting his wounded shoulder.

Slipped. The observation struck her oddly, that until this moment, she had always seen Jayne as a commanding presence. Not like Mal with leadership and quiet authority, but with spectacular bravado and a sense of ownership in every breath he took.

Now, he looked every inch beaten. Quiet. Withdrawn.

Scared.

He didn’t take more than a few steps into the room, his blue eyes immediately taking account of River before anything else. She watched the path of his gaze as he focused through the windows on one surgical team after another. “Kaylee?”

She inclined her head to the door behind her and he nodded, finally meeting her eyes.

Her world tilted just slightly off axis to find everything she’d been to numb too feel reflected in his blue eyes.

. . . . . . . . .

Casualty

Is the right turn wrong

The ship he’s been looking for loomed over him, just as expected. The girl sitting out front however, wasn’t. The bright umbrella was outshone only by her smile, and he couldn’t imagine a single thing more out of place.

He smiled and talked with her, that smile of hers so utterly innocent. She made him falter. Second guess. A girl like that couldn’t be caught up in the kind of mess he’s looking to clean up. He forces the doubts from his mind, the ‘verse is a strange and mysterious place, and he’s seen a wealth of oddity in this life.

There was a job he had to do. A man with a mission that must be stopped. A life that was more precious than any other in the ‘verse.

But as he handed over the strawberries and received that glowing smile in return, he felt his stomach drop to his knees. It wasn’t he who would pay the price, but this girl.

This girl with the pretty umbrella and a smile that moved mountains.

. . . . . . . . .

Ambushed

For I don't fall in love lawlessly

He gave up on Love many, many years ago. Before Inara. Before Serenity. Before the War. Before he’d even left Shadow. That part of him was long dead and buried eight feet under. It was Love that destroyed his Mama.

And Malcolm Reynolds would be damned to the devil’s doorstep before he let it destroy him.

Problem was the rest of his crew was made up of a buncha feng le romantics. Even Jayne, who had to run his mouth about every-damn-thing didn’t so much a smirk when River made a point of sittin’ beside him at meals.

And Simon. The gorram doctor thought the whole thing was healthy. When Mal had gone to him to tell him to get her to stop, he’d shook his head. “It’s good for her, having feelings of her own, recognizing them and then acting upon them. It’s almost more than I’d hoped for. Besides, better you than Jayne.”

While, yes, that was true, Mal still found the whole business distracting. She’d pop up outta nowhere when he was least expecting it. Those big, huge eyes of hers fixed adoringly on him. Weren’t a man in the ‘verse less deserving of it than him.

Then there was that job on Rathine.

Zoe got shot up bad, and weren’t a one of them sure she’d make it through the night. They’d sat in the lounge, all of them; Simon, Kaylee, Jayne, and Inara. River had chosen him to sit with. Curled up against his side, resting her head on his shoulder, her thin arm wound around his, and they waited.

Damned if he couldn’t think of anything he needed more at that moment than her.

Wasn’t that he loved her. Not yet.

But it was happening. An’ judging by the tiny little smile she was givin’ him, she knew it too.