I’m not usually a fan of the songfic, but this just seemed to fit.

Firefly belongs to Joss Whedon, Universal et al.; ‘Mercy of the Fallen’ belongs to Dar Williams and Razor and Tie. The last bit of dialogue is straight from the show. What can I say, it’s just too good to be messed with.

Sorry about the ‘G-d’ for the big girl upstairs, but I do believe that some words have too much power to be used lightly.

‘Mercy of the Fallen’

‘Oh my fair north star, I have held to you dearly. I had asked you to steer me, ‘til one cloud-scattered night I got lost in my travels...’

Was a time the ‘verse made sense. When redemption could be earned through righteous acts. When G-d was G-d, and G-d was good. When the abbey was all the sanctuary he needed. When the only unforgivable sin was the loss of faith. Laws were to be abided, might worked for right, and system deserved respect. It made so much sense, he thought he could share it with the lost ones. He needed to share it. So he packed his bags and headed for the docks. And then he made the mistake of falling for an innocent smile and a beautiful soul with a ship that looked weather worn but true. Shepherd Book stepped on board, and the ‘verse lost all meaning.

‘I met Leo the lion...’

When he heard the soft thud and feminine grunt of the impact of the first punch, he took Vera out and set her on the bar. Then he went back to his drink. When the whore came tearing out of the room, sobbing and half-dressed, the john close on her heels, staggering drunkenly with a mean look on his face, he took the safety off and cocked the gun before setting it back down. When the john pushed the whore down the stairs, cursing her price and threatening to kill her, he called for another round. Finally, when the john reached the bottom of the stairs, the whore huddled in a corner, folded in on herself, he picked Vera up, turned on his stool, and shot the man three times in the head. He idly wondered if the house would give him a free turn for his services. Only thing better than a good drink, Jayne thought, was a free fuck.

‘Met a king and met a giant’

‘Lieutenant? ‘s that you, Lieutenant?' Mal turned to look at the man who was running up behind him, panting to catch up. ‘Ain’t a lieutenant anymore, Rigby. War’s over. We lost.’ ‘Yes, sir,’ Rigby replied, grinning at his old commander. ‘Not a lieutenant means not a “sir” Rigby. “Mal” works fine these days.’ ‘Whatever you say... Mal...’ Rigby tried out the name like a new Christmas toy. ‘Just wanted to see if it was really you. And gorram if it ain’t. Mal Reynolds, in the flesh. Gorram.’

Mal rolled his eyes and looked around impatiently, straining through the crowd in search of his first mate. He and Zoe were in the middle of a job, and he didn’t have time for this kid or any of his gorram hero worship right now. He just wanted to deliver the goods, collect his share, and get off this sad and grimy mining moon.

Finally he spotted her, tall and proud, a head taller than most. Even dressed to blend with the local folk she stood out. ‘Got it, captain. We’re all set,’ Zoe said, discreetly handing the wad of bills to Mal.

‘Zoe? Zoe’s here too?’ Rigby asked, excitedly, oblivious to Mal’s hints that he should leave. ‘Hey, is this some kinda secret resistance thing? Yeah, you guys just pulled off an underground strike, didn’t ya. Oh, shiny, carrying on the good fight. Man, I would love to join you, if I didn’t have my kid brother to look out for. So, what is it - alliance blood money? A deal to smuggle weapons? Disrupting their lines of communication, or something?’ ‘Captain?’ Zoe asked, indicating Rigby with a raised eyebrow. ‘Someone forgot to tell Rigby here that the Independents ain’t no more.’ ‘Ah’ ‘Rigby, I ain’t here to save the verse, just deliver my load. In fact, I think this last deal was for an Alliance middle man. Didn’t really ask, don’t much care. Just want to get paid, get another job.’ Rigby’s face fell somewhere below his feet. Shock and hurt betrayed themselves in his expression. ‘Yeah, sure. Mal.’ The captain’s name was like a dead weight in his mouth, laced with all the weight of his disillusionment and disappointment. He turned to walk away, when a mighty blast one hundred yards away caught the entire market’s attention.

Zoe immediately stepped in front of Mal and drew her piece, aiming towards the source of the explosion. She quickly returned the gun to her side when she realized that there was nothing at which to shoot. Instead, she looked down upon a gaping hole in the ground, men and women scrabbling to escape, some successful, some not, climbing over the wounded and the dead in an attempt to flee the wreckage. ‘Mine cave in’ Rigby supplied, ‘Happen a lot these days. Not much by safety measures.’ ‘Anyone going to do anything about it?’ Mal asked. ‘Nah, ain’t worth their while. Cheaper for the magistrate just to set up a new mine, get fresh men and start again. And the working people are all to scared to do anything themselves.’ Mal sighed. ‘Mal?’ Zoe asked, ‘What do you want to do?’ ‘Zoe. Go back to the ship, get the mule, and tell Jayne to gather all the rope he can find and get out here with it. Better tell the Doc to get out here, too. Rigby, you come with me,’ Mal turned as he issued his orders, and began walking against the tide of wounded miners running frantically away from the carnage. ‘We’ve got some people to save.’ Rigby looked up, and headed after Mal, ‘Sir. Yes, sir.’

‘With their errant knight’

Jayne looked like he might throw up. Even the captain looked a little queasy.‘Wash,’ Mal asked, ‘Was that fifth inverted dive really necessary to lose the law ship on our tail?’ ‘Well, no,’ the pilot responded, righting a small plastic figurine of a stegosaurus, ‘but I thought it would be fun. Why?’ he asked, looking up at Zoe, anxious for approval, ‘you didn’t like it?’ At that, Jayne did throw up. ‘Isn’t he supposed to be strong, or something?’ Wash asked, pointing a T-rex at the peaked mercenary. ‘Gorramit, Zoe,’ Jayne growled, ‘ would you just marry the man already so he can stop showin’ off.’And for the first time in her life, Zoe blushed.

‘There’s the wind, and the rain, and the mercy of the fallen, who say they have no claim to know what’s right. There’s the weak, and the strong, and the beds that have no answer, and that’s where I may rest my head tonight.’

The narrow hallway was littered with metal scraps, and wires hung down from the open ceiling at seemingly random intervals. Yet Inara picked her way through the debris as gracefully as though she were treading the finest silken carpet, looking as elegant as if she were headed to the governor’s ball. Her calm manner did not waver when Mal appeared at the far end of the corridor, and headed towards her. She had been headed to find him, anyway. ‘My rent’ she said, as she held a scented envelope out for him to take. Mal opened the envelope and looked at its contents. ‘Two months worth. The sleeping with men for money business must be going well.’ ‘It is.’ ‘Maybe I should try it out. Think I’d make a pretty whore?’ Mal put his hands on his hips and did his best impression of a pinup pose. ‘No.’ ‘Neither do you. Make a good whore, I mean, not the pretty part. Because you are a beautiful woman, Inara. Too beautiful to sell.’ Mal’s had reached up toward Inara’s face, and let it hover near her skin, never quite touching the pale smoothness of her cheek. Inara wavered for an instant before regaining her composure, and turning said ‘Yes, well, that is not your decision to make. And it never will be.’ With that, she returned to her shuttle. Mal cursed and returned to his bunk. That night they both lay in bed, and were lonely.

‘So if your sister, or your brother, were stumbling on their last mile, in a self-inflicted exile, you’d wish for them a humble friend’

A River runs through it, but with rapids, with cataracts, with impassable fjords. It is not right, it is not right, it is not right. But Simon is here. Like the park birds he came early, like the water she sat down. Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man. Simon tries to make it right, but he is weary, let him rest. He needs time. River needs time, time to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet. Should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling about the shores of silent seas. But a River is not a rock, not a Prufrock. Simon is, Simon, who is no prince Hamlet. But she is not his Ophelia, crazy though she may be. She cannot fix him, she is not trained. He needs a mechanic. Who plays jacks. Because a River runs though it, but a Kaylee makes it beautiful.

‘And I hope, some day, that the best of Falstaff’s planners give me seven half-built manors where the half-dreams may dream, without end’

Kaylee had always known a ship could be a person. Mal had known, too. Had known that his boat was the one who soothed him to sleep at night when his dreams were of pain. And after River became Serenity, maybe everyone else knew it, too.

‘There’s the wind, and the rain, and the mercy of the fallen, who say “Hey, its not my place to know what’s right” There’s the weak, and the strong, and the many stars that guide us, we have some of them inside us...’

Mal: ‘I had a good day’ Simon: ‘You had the Alliance on you, criminals and savages. Half the people on the ship have been shot or wounded, including yourself, and you’re harboring known fugitives.’ Mal: ‘We’re still flying.’ Simon: ‘That’s not much’ Mal: ‘It’s enough.’