BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - HUMOR

CABRIDGES

Visit to a Weird 'Verse, Re-revisited -- Chapter Three
Friday, March 17, 2006

Nathan Fillion, still on board the Serenity. Watch as he skillfully questions the crew without revealing his non-Mal identity or ignorance. Does it work? Not so much.


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 3487    RATING: 9    SERIES: FIREFLY

<< Read Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Standing alone in Serenity’s cavernous, echoing cargo bay, Nathan tried to calm his pounding heart long enough to remember which button opened the hatch.

Landing on Tethys wasn’t as big an ordeal as he had expected, and the view from the bridge had been simply breathtaking. The sun had dropped over the horizon just as Wash expertly punched through the atmosphere, providing a glorious sunset that lit up the sky with streaks of pink and purple and red, and then they circled the globe, skimming over the landscape fast enough to catch up with an equally stunning sunrise. Just about worth all this madness and it had left him grinning from ear to ear, although he put on a properly dour expression before Wash could see.

But now they were on the dirt, and the Larkin brothers were undoubtedly on the other side of the airlock, and Nathan was about to go face them and their heavily armed goons all by his lonesome.

There were times when he wished Malcolm Reynolds wasn’t so much of a loner.

Sometimes it had been while filming an intimate scene with Morena. More than once Nathan had gotten personally fed up with Mal’s scripted stubbornness around the woman that everyone knew he was in love with, and he’d grab Morena and slobber on her neck or swing her around and do-si-do a few steps. Always broke up the crew, kept things merry, and hey, grabbing Morena was its own reward.

Sometimes it had been when he had to do a reaction scene with Mal staring off into the distance, weighted down by his choices and the horrific events of his life. Every wrong move Mal had ever made, he carried on his shoulders like a lead weight. Nathan didn’t, couldn’t live like that, and occasionally he got a powerful impulse to slap Mal around a few times and tell him to lighten the hell up. He didn’t, ‘cause it would hurt, and it wouldn’t have done a bit of good anyway, especially when Joss kept wanting him to go deeper and darker.

Right now, though, he was wishing Mal had been less of a loner because if the bastard had ever kept a frickin’ captain’s log, or maybe just talked to someone once in a while, Nathan could have found out who the hell the Larkin brothers were and why he, Mal, apparently had felt it necessary to pop one of them before he, Nathan, went out there to say howdy to the survivors.

Nathan had never shot a person, ever, not outside Halo 2. Not counting Halo 1, of course. But since he was now Mal for the foreseeable future that didn’t appear to be a line of reasoning he thought he could get away with so he had spent some time trying to find one he could.

Even after hours of tearing apart Mal’s cabin all he found were a few more weapons, some spare clips, some clothing that he recognized from the show, some very tattered star charts, and a cigar box that held a bundle of letters tied with a string, a tattered Independents patch with a faded blood stain, a set of dog tags, a picture of a tough-looking middle-aged woman, and, for some ungodly reason, a metal whistle.

He’d also found a hidden compartment in the deck under the bunk with a small sack of cash and two different sets of ship’s ownership papers. But no log, no diary, not even any porn hidden under the mattress. Maybe dirty magazines were a sign of weakness out in the black, or else Jayne had stolen ‘em all. Nathan was just going to have to step out into the world and ask somebody. Deep breath. Be the captain. Be the captain.

He tried Zoe first.

“So,” he said, dropping into a chair next to where Zoe was sitting at the dinner table, stripping and cleaning her Sharps. “Think they’ll still be pissed?”

“You mean, has the pain and shock of you shooting their baby brother in the head softened into a wistful memory?”

Nathan winced. “Yeah.”

“Not likely.”

“It’s not like I had a choice,” Nathan said hopefully.

“Wouldn’t know. That was while me and Wash were on our honeymoon and you ran a job without us. You weren’t too forthcoming with the details when you picked us up.”

“Oh. Well, I didn’t.”

“Good to know, sir.”

There was a long moment, broken only by the sound of a wet patch being pushed through a rifle breech.

“So. Good honeymoon?”

“I’m not too forthcoming with my own details, sir. But I’m pretty sure no one died.”

“Good, good.”

There was another long moment. And a dry patch, this time.

“And it’s good that Jayne kept what happened to himself, since he was probably right there with me—“

Zoe pulled the patch rod out of the rifle and carefully set both of them down. “Sir, you have no idea why you shot that boy, do you?”

Boy? Crap. “Um, I, well, he tried to... I was almost... he came up and... not so much, no.”

Her expression softened. “It’s that concussion. I don’t think you’re all back yet.”

You don’t know how true that is, Nathan thought.

“But I do know you never shot no one didn’t give you cause, nor hurt anyone wasn’t going out o’ their way to ask for it.”

“So you think I should ask Jayne?” Nathan asked.

“You could try.”

“Shiny,” he said, and he stood up and took a step towards the door.

“Of course then the backstabbing mercenary would know that the only man keeping him from taking over the ship wasn’t firing on all thrusters,” Zoe said, selecting another dry patch. Nathan stared at her.

“You’re all kinds of helpful, you know that?”

“Glad to be of service, sir.”

Jayne had been in the cargo bay doing pull-ups from the stair supports. “Ninety-six,” he puffed. “Ninety-seven...”

Nathan stopped in front of him. “You really do that many or do you just bump the number by 80 whenever anyone walks by?”

“Got to keep in shape, Mal,” Jayne said, his arm muscles bulging impressively as he raised and lowered himself. “Too many women out there heard of me, I got to live up to their expectations.” He dropped to the deck and grabbed a towel off the railing. “What, you don’t think I can do a hunnerd pull-ups? You got some money you’re tired of?”

“No, no, I’m sure you can. Judging from the smell you’ve done four or five hundred already. Look, we need to talk about the Larkins.”

Jayne walked over to the weight bench, rubbing the towel over his neck. “The guys what brother you done massacred?”

“Yeah, them.”

“What about ‘em? Shoot two more and you’ll have a set.” He settled back and wrapped his hands around the barbell. “Shouldn’t ever leave survivors like that. They always want revenge on you and that kinda thing can really eat into your personal life.”

Nathan moved behind the weight bench into the spotter position. Jayne looked startled. “I’m starting to get that. Tell me, how would you have handled it?”

Jayne held still for a second, like he was nerving himself for an attack, before starting to pump the bar up and down. “Just the way you did (grunt), captain. It was an inspired (grunt) move o’ thrillin’, action-packed genius (grunt), is what it was.”

“Why don’t I think you’re serious? Oh, wait, because you’re talking.”

“Not gonna (grunt) catch me second-guessing you (grunt). You’re the boss.”

“You second-guess me all the time! You third- and fourth-guess me! You’re second-guessing me right now!”

Jayne pushed the bar back up to the rack and sat up quickly. “Then I ain’t gonna second-guess you when you’re standin’ over me and my hands is full o’ something heavy.”

“OK, fair enough, But they ain’t full now.”

“You boys having a problem?” Book walked into the cargo bay carrying a towel and wearing a T-shirt and loose pants instead of his usual preacher outfit.

“Captain’s getting’ all itchy over the Larkin boys wantin’ to shoot him a little,” Jayne said. He stretched back onto the bench and began lifting again.

“He ain’t wrong, preacher,” Nathan said. He stepped out of the way as Book took his place as spotter.

“Is their anger justified? Did you have a good reason to shoot that boy?”

“It was needful.” Probably.

“Then you need to find a way to convince them of that.”

“Maybe I could make it up to them?”

Jayne snorted. “What, go to the pet store and buy ‘em another brother looks just like the old one?”

“Can’t replace a life, son,” Book said. “You can only move on with the lives that are left.”

“Or shoot the rest of them and be done with it,” Jayne said.

“Well, thank you, you’ve both been really helpful.”

Nathan turned to leave but Book called to him. “Captain... if you’d like, I could go meet up with them first. Most folks won’t draw on a man of God, might be I could find a way to smooth things out before they see you.”

Tempting, more than tempting, but... “I appreciate that, preacher. But I don’t plan to give them any hostages. I did what I did, I’ll own up to it.”

Book smiled. “Spoken like a man knows his responsibility.”

“Spoken like a man what ain’t gonna live to see Tuesday. Captain, after you own up to it, can I have your stuff?”

“Go pump yourself, Jayne,” Nathan said, and he left hurriedly.

Simon was in sickbay but he had joined the crew long after the Larkin incident, so no help there. Mal walked faster to get past before he was spotted but a thought struck him and he stopped suddenly. Maybe River could tell him? She hadn’t been on the ship either, but maybe she could read Jayne’s mind and find out what happened.

He shook his head and kept walking. Nah, no reason to make her go into that swamp if she didn’t have to. Besides, Nathan had been doing a good job avoiding River so far and now wasn’t the time to break his streak. Time to go back to his bunk and brood some more. He was starting to see the appeal of it.

Kaylee came bouncing down the stairs as he was going up. “Hey, cap’n! Everything shiny?”

“Nuthin’ but kittens and dandelion wine. Hey, I ever confide in you?”

“You mean, like with personal stuff, like a person? Hell, no, cap’n, not once.” Her eyes got wide. “Are you gonna?”

“Probably not. Just checking.”

He left her and fled to his room. This wasn’t helping.

He kicked aside some of the scattered clothes and collapsed onto his bunk. Shit, no wonder Mal was mopey all the time. Nothing like having “maybe getting shot in the face” as part of your job description. This was a hard life, and to survive you had to be a rock. Rocks didn’t open up much. And the effort of staying in character was starting to wear on him. It was like doing one of Joss’ long, trademark oner shots where the scene just kept going and going and going. Every time he finished talking to someone on the ship he found himself waiting expectantly for someone to yell “cut!”

What he needed was someone he could talk to that wouldn’t take it as a sign of weakness or uncertainty, two things a captain could not afford, apparently. Didn’t the ‘verse have psychiatrists?

On the plus side, if he ever did get back and (he crossed his fingers) a sequel got made, he’d have new insights into his character. He really understood Malcolm Reynolds now, in a way he never really had before. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to get back and talk to Joss about this. Why, if they did get a sequel going he’d probably—

“What’s an ‘Oscar’?”

Nathan yelped and scooted backwards to the head of his bed. In front of him River’s face appeared like a wraith, slipping out of the shadows in the corner of his room as she moved silently and gracefully to sit near him.

“Whoa! Hey, where’d you come from?”

“Where did the rest of you go?” she asked.

“What? I’m right here, girl. Hey, what are you--” She leaned forward and stared at him intently, running her gaze up and down his body like she was looking for clues. Finally she sat back.

“Now you’re broken, too,” she said. “All your sorrows, all your memories, pulled out like taffy, pressed flat, and put back in on sheets of paper. You look like you, you smell like you, but sometimes you talk and walk and think like someone else who’s just trying to be what everyone thinks is you. It’s hard,” she said, reassuringly. “I know.”

“Nothin’ wrong with me a little rest won’t cure. Just a little concussion makin’ it hard to remember things, just like your brother said.”

“Concussion. Immediate and transient alteration of neurological function caused by mechanical acceleration and deceleration forces. Can cause headaches, irritability, loss of concentration, and loss of physical ability as well as specific neurological ailments such as hysterical posttraumatic amnesia.”

Nathan sat up. “Yeah, those.”

She jumped up to her knees and put her hands on Nathan’s head. “Not amnesia. Broken. Your whole life emptied out and you’re playing make-believe so no one will know.” Her expression turned to puzzlement. “But not broken. You’re whole, and complete, and you know things.” She let go and pushed herself off the bed to stand behind the ladder, her hands grasping the pole by her face. “Who are you?” she asked fearfully.

Oh, go se, Nathan thought. “Look, River—“

“Who is Summer?”

Suddenly Nathan wished he remembered more Chinese from the show. “Go se” really wasn’t going to be enough. “It’s difficult to explain…”

“Pretend people. You’re full of pretend people. Pretend friends, pretend doctors, poking and prodding and stealing my memories until all I can see are shards and slivers and fragments reflecting what I was, and you know that.” Abruptly she stood up straight, prim and proper, just like a cultured Hollywood debutante posing for the paparazzi. “It’s been lovely but I should run now, Simon will be worried about me—“

“River, please do me a favor.”

She stopped, surprised. “Me?”

“I’d like to tell you a story. But first, look at me, however you do it. Do I mean you any harm, even the slightest little bit?”

River stared at him with impossibly large eyes. Finally she slipped back and sat next to him. “Tell me a story.”

“Once upon a time, there was a man named Joss…”

And he told her everything. He told her about Edmonton, and his family, and his discovery of acting, and New York, and California, and meeting the man who made him a captain. He told her about the show, and the fans, and the love so many people had for this little spaceship and her crew. He told her about making the movie and how glad he was to return to his favorite role. He told her about conventions, and the van, and how he ended up here. And he told her how scared he was.

Through it all she remained utterly silent.

“You think I’m crazy, huh,” Nathan finally asked.

“I don’t think I’m the right person to judge. But I believe you.”

“So what’s my next step? I ain’t the captain, all of my tough moments were written by someone else.”

“You need someone to write your script for you.”

“I don’t think the WGA has offices out here.”

“Tell me something, captain-who’s-not.”

“Anything.”

“What’s she like?”

Something about the way she said it told Nathan who “she” was. “She’s beautiful, like you. Not as smart as you, but no one is. A little older. And she loves to dance.”

When River smiled full blast, her whole face was transformed. “I have a sister.”

“You do, at that.”

“When you go back, tell her I love her.”

“I surely will. When I go back?”

River got up to leave. “You can’t stay here. Dreamland is only for a little while, you both have to wake up. We all need our people back.”

“This ain’t just dreaming, girl.”

“That’s all anything is,” she had said, and then she’d left him there.

And now it was time. The crew hadn’t taken well to his notion of fronting up to the Larkins alone and unarmed, but it felt right. He didn’t want violence to ensue the second he stepped out armed -- especially since he was good on the quick-draw, not so hot on the aiming -- and putting himself in their hands voluntarily seemed like a good way to open up negotiations.

Zoe had remained impassive, but he could feel disapproval coming off her in waves. Jayne just looked disgusted. The rest were worried, in various degrees, except for River, who looked like she was watching a show. And Inara…

Nathan had avoided Inara more than anyone. Playacting in front of a person who had real feelings for who he was supposed to be seemed dishonest, a slap in the face she didn’t deserve even if she wouldn’t know. It made him feel awkward around her, and he was rarely awkward around anyone. When she tried to speak up he talked loudly over her, ordering everyone to stay in the ship and be ready to launch if anything deadly happened to him, and then he left quickly before she could follow for their character moment.

It was actually a hell of a performance. Joss and Tim would have been proud.

He stood in front of the hatch and hit what he really hoped was the right button. Be embarrassing to stand here all heroic like and then heroically blast himself with fire-suppressing foam. Luck was with him; the doors opened, letting hot air rush in and blow his hair about. Sunlight shone in, making him squint. There was no one in sight, but which was a bit of a relief, but he could see a settlement a ways off. OK. Be the captain. Be the captain. Be the captain. He stepped out into the sunlight.

And stopped when he heard the unmistakable sound of several guns being cocked behind him.

He turned around, slowly, to see ten disreputable-looking men step out from around and under the ship where they must have taken positions the second Serenity landed. The biggest and ugliest one, by a disturbingly large margin, was the one standing in front of him and holding a big gun aimed at Nathan’s left nostril.

“Look, boys,” he said. “It’s Malcolm Reynolds, sure as I live and breathe. And here I thought I wouldn’t get to murder anyone today.”

>> Read Chapter Four

COMMENTS

Friday, March 17, 2006 2:23 PM

LEESHAJOY


Too bad there's no Oscar category for Best Performance As Yourself In A Parallel Universe...

Friday, March 17, 2006 2:34 PM

LADYKNIGHT


oh wow...this is gonna be interesting. REAL interesting. Wow. Gotta love it. Been readin' this series almost half an hour now, love every minute of it. Hurry up with more, huh? Poor Nathan...

Friday, March 17, 2006 9:08 PM

CHOO1701


I'm liking this story more and more. Why do the cast get all the good 'dream time'??

p.s: which one of you above is Nathan Fillion?? :P

Saturday, March 18, 2006 5:34 AM

2X2


This is just great fun... and well written... poor Nathan, but I love River's reaction - I have a sister! - wonderful... I too am eagerly awaiting the inevitable and unavoidable moment when Inara will finally corner him alone, and he'll have not choice but to face her heeeee!!!

Sunday, April 2, 2006 2:09 PM

GUYWHOWANTSAFIREFLYOFHISOWN


squee huh I never squeed before and me need more to funny BURMA

Wednesday, April 5, 2006 1:47 PM

BASE


Love. ^.^

I'd like to see a little bit of Mal in our world, as he only has the slightest bit of knowledge about Earth as we know it. And I really, really want to see the actions of Serenity start to play out.

MORE.

Saturday, April 8, 2006 9:24 AM

OURMRSWASHBURNE


I LOVE your River.

"I have a sister"...

I teared up!

Soooooo shiny! Lovin your work :)

Saturday, May 20, 2006 3:48 AM

BELLONA


you can't kill off nathan now!! then he won't get his Oscar!!

b


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