Title : Captainy Things

Not Mine : All the characters and little plot references belong to Joss & Co.

Mal bid Wash goodnight as he left the bridge, knowing that later, Zoe would venture up to fall asleep in her husband’s arms. Just as she had done countless nights before. He began his nightly walk through, venturing down the stairs, hearing his footsteps echo through her, clanking like metal on metal. He ran his hands along her cold corridor walls, feeling her vibrate beneath his fingertips. It had become a dance, a nightly tango through her halls, from one end of the ship to the other. It had started years ago when he first bought her, mostly as a precaution to make sure that things weren’t fallin’ off of her in the wee hours. Over time, it became a ritual. Tonight he walked the same path as always. First he passed through the hall lined with the hatches leading to the primary crew’s bunks. They were his own, Jayne's, Wash and Zoe’s, and Kaylee’s. Kaylee’s bein’ the one lined with all the foofera and lights. He smiled as he passed it, knowing the young woman’s dreams were somewhere between spinnin’ engine parts and a full on exam by the young doc. The latter he found a little creepifyin’ after hearin’ about it for the third time. He left the hall and entered into the inviting half light of the galley. He randomly pushed in two wicker chairs and plucked a few grapes out of the basket at the center of the table. He made a mental note of the pile of dishes in the sink. Seemed Jayne had neglected his turn again. From there he drifted down the hall into the engine room where he stood for a moment in the reddish glow of the operating lights. He listened to the hum of the engine as she spun in her chamber, and he patted her gently. The dull racket was a comfort to him. He much preferred it to no movement at all... Outside he took the staircase down to the infirmary and he glanced through the windows. The sterile interior stayed lit by bright white lights, and sat still as a museum, in one of her more peaceful moments. The doc kept it neat and well stocked, and there Mal had learned more than he cared to know about needles and the like. He unconsciously lifted a hand over his heart as he entered the lower passenger dorms. He stopped in the shadowy hall and glanced at each shuttered paper door. They housed two fugitives and a preacher. Nowhere else in the verse would a stranger assortment be found, yet they all seemed to belong, and they accepted each other. That fact confounded him the most when it came to Book and Jayne. He reckoned the Shepherd had to read the chapter on forgiveness in his Bible a whole slew a times ‘fore he could except Jayne for what he was. Mal wished he had some of Book’s tolerance. It might help in the case of the stubborn doctor and his fractured in the brainpan sister. Though, he had to confess, lately he’d been feelin’ a little more sorry for River, and a little more grateful to Simon and his skills as a doctor. He had his own life to remind him just what Simon was capable of, he thought as he entered the cargo bay. He glanced around the empty interior. The noticeable lack of cargo was a sign of their current lull between jobs. He took the stairs up to the catwalk. On the square platform he stopped and surveyed the bay below. Nothing out of place. No shifting shadows. Everything was as it should be. His blue eyes glided up the staircase leading up to shuttle one, and he followed the familiar path. Mal arrived at his final destination and he rapped upon the cold steel. Inara answered the door, radiant and beautiful in a shimmering pearl white gown that swept the floor at her feet. She cascaded into his arms, her mouth seeking his in a passionate, lover’s kiss. She took him into her shuttle, all opulence and candlelight. She took him into her bed, silk and satin laden. She took him inside her, a velvet warmth, a second skin. A shelter, within a shelter, within a shelter. Hours later he left her, beneath the sheets, feigning sleep with a lazy grin. She played her part as a mistress, biding her time until her lover’s return. Her scent still lingered on his skin as he stepped down from her shuttle to continue his walk through the halls of his first love, touching the cold corridor walls, feeling her vibrate beneath his fingertips. *************************************************** Comments welcome! Just a little idea I had...