Firefly fic
Oct. 12th, 2005 11:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20I'm reading Mal/River fics now. I've sunk so low.
Mal hated this place. He hated the looks he got from the students or patients or whatever the hell they were when he walked through the halls. Hated the doctors and Companions and teachers who said hello to him like they knew or cared who the hell he was. Hated how clean and neat it was, how comfortable and spacious the room he'd been given was, and how much like the Core it all felt. He hated that his door didn't lock, and that his room was next to Camille's and no one on his gorram crew would trade with him.
And he hated Garrison Pike. Hated the man's smug look and cool blue eyes. Hated that neatly trimmed goatee and his perfect clothes and Core-bred accent. Mal hated that Garrison had the money and intelligence to create this place, and that he'd made money in the war instead of lost everything. Hate his obvious education and brilliance and the way he could take care of people. Deserved to take care of...
Viciously, Mal backed away from that thought. Nothing mattered anyway. Only reason he was here was to make sure River got the help she needed without being taken advantage of. She were part of his crew and he didn't let anyone take advantage of his crew.
As for the rest of his crew, they didn't seem to be suspicious like they should be. Oh, Zoe always maintained a state of vigilance, but he could tell that she was viewing their stay as more a vacation than a protection gig. She and Wash had been tucked into their room practically since they got here, like they was happy to be away from Serenity for awhile. Never mind everyone in the place not only knew what they were doing, but were probably listening in and playing along. Jayne had found himself some playmate kids who wanted to spar with him, saying they needed to practice on someone who wouldn't fight fair. When he heard that he could do whatever he wanted to take 'em down, he'd volunteered enthusiastically. Book'd found one of the libraries and a few kids to pray with while Inara was chatting with the Companions. River and Kaylee were playing court to those that wanted to meet River, and Camille...
Weren't part of his crew.
Damn her. Damn her and her eyes and her skin and the way she smelled so... good under the sweat and grime and the blood that she washed off every time she got hurt. All of it had combined together and Mal could still smell Camille lingering in the air of his ship even though she was gone. She wouldn't be back, neither. She'd lied and she'd used him and it wasn't going to happen.
She didn't want him, anyway. And he certainly didn't want him. And yet...
Leaning against the edge of the flight controls, Mal closed his eyes, replaying what had happened when they'd landed in his mind. After introducing himself to Mal, Garrison had taken Camille into his arms, giving her the longest hug in the history of the 'verse. Mal had wanted to kill him, to go and pull her away, and he could feel the looks people were shooting at him as he tried to close himself off and not care. And then, after rocking her back and forth a bit, Garrison pulled away and aimed a kiss at her mouth. Mal had forced himself to watch, expressionless, watch as another man kissed his.... kised Camille. And then, Camille...
Camille had turned away. She'd turned away and kissed Garrison on the cheek before untangling herself from his arms.
Everyone gathered around had all broke into buzzing whispers, but Garrison had acted like nothing had happened. But it had. It had happened, and it was enough to make Mal wonder, even though he didn't want to. While on of the boys had pulled Camille aside, Garrison had explained he had rooms for them all and they were all welcome and blah, blah, blah. Then, Camille had been led away to get her arm fixed, and the rest of them started the process of moving in.
"You're welcome anywhere in the complex," Garrison had said before he'd left. "Nothing is closed to you and you may do as you wish. The only thing I ask is that, unless absolutely necessary, you join us for breakfast and dinner." He'd smiled like he were embarrassed or something. "It's a house rule that everyone, guest, worker, and student alike, are required to follow."
"And if I decide to stay on my ship?" Mal had asked.
"Then take it back into orbit so as not to upset the routine," Garrison replied blandly.
"We'll be at the meals," Zoe had broken in. "It's no problem."
Mal hate it here. He wanted his sky back. He wanted things to be uncomplicated--well. Sort uncomplicated, again.
"No, really, it's all right," he heard Simon saying down in the cargo hold. "I'm only getting a few things, I don't need any help Go back to the school."
"Naw," an unfamiliar voice said. "I've got nothing to do right now. Besides, I wanted to see the ship anyway."
Mal dropped the rag he'd been using to clean and left the cockpit. He got to the main hold in time to see Simon disappear into the common area. A stranger, a lanky, dark-haired boy dressed in black, was following him. He stopped just at the top of the stairs and turned. Sharp blue eyes found Mal's immediately.
The eyes seemed to cut right through Mal. The boy was stock still, head titled like he was listening for something. Mal felt utterly exposed, dissected and naked. He could even feel it, feel the boy rummaging through his mind and there was nothing he could do.
He swallowed against a sudden bought of nausea and put a hand to his head. "Hey," he said, throat dry so it came out as a whisper. Mal swallowed and inhaled, prepared to shout at the boy, when the kid smirked and jogged into the common area after Simon.
What the hell did Simon think he was doing, bringing one of them on board? Cursing under his breath, Mal stormed down. This was his ship. His refuge. These damn psychics had an entire moon to play on; they didn't need his ship too.
Or his crew. Okay, yeah, Simon was probably talking to everyone here to get information on how to help River, but this child wasn't a doctor. He was a patient and had no business here.
He was going to have to institute a rule. No one as allowed to sleep with anyone here--except for Kaylee and maybe River. Mal didn't trust this whole androgen blocker thing. To him, it sounded more like an excuse for promiscuity and, very likely, for a dirty old man to take advantage of some very attractive adolescents. It was one thing to sleep with normal adults that hadn't been lab rats for the Alliance, but it was another to sleep with them who weren't exactly in their right mind. At least River and Kaylee knew each other and Mal trusted both of them. He didn't trust anyone on this moon.
"So, this is where the magic happens, huh?" an unfamiliar voice said inside Simon's room.
"If by magic you mean River occasionally throwing-up," Simon responded, sounding weary, "then, yes. It is."
Mal crossed the common area to Simon's room and looked at the scene inside. Simon was going through his trunk, pulling out what Mal knew to be his favorite shirts and slacks, as well as underwear and other sundries. He also pulled out the occasional book, data pad, and trinket that looked to belong to River.
The boy was lounging on Simon's bed, looking comfortable. He was stretched out, facing Simon, elegant, pale hand slowly caressing the tautly pulled comforter on Simon's bed.
"Ah, come on," the boy wheedled. "You really mean to say that with a crew this pretty, you're not getting some action?"
"I mean to say." He didn't sound all that happy or interested in what the boy was asking. As usual, Simon was intent in the task at hand which, to Mal's displeasure, was apparently getting clothes and books and stuffing them into a bag to take over to the base.
The boy sort of sighed, sat up, and picked up Simon's pillow. "So you're not sleeping with anyone, but you must ease your tension somehow." He pressed the pillow to his face and inhaled deeply, eyes sliding to Mal's. "So, who's your fantasy material? That muscular merc? The Companion? The cute mechanic because, wow, kinky. Or," the boy winked at Mal, "is it that hau li ban pin rou of a captain you have running this ship?"
Simon sighed. "That is a rather personal questiong, don't you think?"
"Probably." He looked like he was talking to Mal, but his voice was pitched at Simon. "Why aren't you with anyone? You're good looking. Brilliant. Clean. You can't tell me that no one here wants you."
Mal was about to say something to stop this farce when Simon said, "It's never worked out. The first person I thought I wanted ended up being more like a sister to me. Then, she started sleeping with my sister, so that ended that. At least, I thought she was sleeping with my sister since no one deigned to tell me that a formerly very sexual young woman was perfectly happy to be in a relationship with an eighteen year-old girl who is apparently incapable of having any sexual feeling because those he chu sheng za jiao de zang huo wanted not only her brain but her entire life. And, meanwhile, despite having no compelling reason, the captain rebuffed my every advance, only to fall in l.."
"I'd stop talking right now if I were you," Mal cut in.
Simon stiffened and turned. His face was sheet white and his hands gripped the bag he was holding tightly. "Captain. I didn't know you were here." He glanced at the boy, who merely shrugged, smiled, and smelled the pillow again.
"It's my ship. There's work to be done," Mal said. "What are you doing bringing one of them here?"
"He followed me." He sounded offended. "I didn't bring him."
"And you didn't know he was following? You couldn't tell him to run back home, that he weren't wanted here?"
"Believe me," Simon replied, voice exquisitely dry. "I've been trying to get rid of him for some time. It hasn't worked."
"It ain't all that hard, Doctor. Just tell him to leave you alone." Mal looked at the boy. "You ain't welcome here."
The boy smiled prettily. "Don't worry. I won't be here long."
"No, you ain't stayin' at all. Go. Go play with your friends or yourself or whatever. We're trying to work here."
"You're dusting your cockpit," the boy said, enunciating every syllable sharply, "and Doctor Tam is packing. I'm interrupting nothing."
"Look, boy," Mal started, but Simon interrupted him with a quiet, "Mal."
Mal looked at him, ready to continue the fight, but the doctor gave the briefest shake of his head, like to say it weren't worth it. Mal was about to light into him when Simon began speaking again.
"I'm sorry, Captain," Simon said, sounding truly contrite. "I didn't realize it would be a problem. I just wanted some changes of clothes and a few things to read. I didn't even realize anyone was here."
"Just because a ship ain't flying, don't mean she's grounded. This is still a working ship..."
"Barely," the boy stuck in.
"Prophet, please."
"What?" Prophet grinned at Simon. "You think he doesn't know that the only thing holding this boat together is twine and prayer? It's not an insult. I think it's rather admirable that he has so much faith in something. Even a bucket of bolts."
Mal stepped inside, fists clenched. "You want to keep breathing, boy?"
Prophet stood in one fluid motion. "Yes, I do, thank you." He dropped the pillow and stepped closer to Mal. "I'm sure it's a good ship. Having never flown in it myself, I only know what I see." His head tilted to the left, eyes narrowing. "However, the fact is, if it weren't for your genius mechanic who can work miracles with twine and spit and prayer and a first mate willing to kill and die for you, and a crew you've managed to weld into a family, you wouldn't be able to fly the black. You'd just be stuck back on..." He broke off, frowning. "That doesn't make any sense. The ship is named Serenity. How could you be stuck here if.... Ah. As in the valley. I get it." He turned to Simon. "Lovely name. Camille's dad was killed there, incidentally. He wasn't the only one."
The thought wasn't fully articulated in his mind ,which was probably how he got the upper hand on Mal. All he knew was, one moment, he was just standing there and, the next, he had Prophet by the shoulder, whirling him around.
It felt good to hit someone, even if the face he was pounding wasn't the one he wanted.
"Mal!" Simon shouted. He stepped in front of Prophet, blocking Mal. "We are guests here."
"He's the mind reader. Why didn't he see that coming?" Mal asked, caressing his broken knuckles.
Prophet turned in Simon's arms and rolled his eyes at Mal. There was a dark purple bruise on his once flawless cheek. "You have to have a thought in order for a reader to read your mind." He didn't seem angry. In fact, he seemed almost happy, like he'd gotten what he wanted. In fact, he stepped back from Simon and touched the bruise. "How does it look, Doctor?"
Simon took Prophet's chin in his hand and tilted his head, examining the bruise. Prophet's eyes fluttered shut, highlighting his insanely long lashes. The boy was beautiful, almost ethereally so. He was strangely feminine and it bothered Mal, not because he had anything against it, but because, well. Everything about this place bothered him.
"You're fine," Simon said, releasing Prophet and stepping back. "But you should get ice on it. Let's head back to the school."
"All right."
Simon turned. "Will you come with us, Captain?"
"No, I'll be along in a bit I wanted to finish up here. I do have work to do, a ship to keep in order and all. Plus, I've a necklace to sell and want to start lookin' at buyers."
Prophet smirked. "You're not going to sell that necklace. It saved Camille's life."
Mal glared. "Only gratefulness I feel for the necklace is that it saved the lives of my crew," he said shortly. "If that thing had hit Camille in the spine, we'd all be dead. Ain't her life I care about."
"I see why you like him so much," Prophet said to Simon. He moved closer and put his hands on Simon's shoulders. "He's wonderfully self-deluded, isn't he?"
Simon swallowed hard as Prophet leaned in, his lips close to Simon's ear. "It's really not my place to say," Simon said. "Perhaps we should…"
"First," Prophet interrupted, "he ignores his feelings for you. He pretends it's for your own good, that he's too damaged and bitter to feel, even though he feels very deeply. The problem is, he has some idealized idea of what love and life should be. He's afraid to love, to trust, so he makes those he does care for go through hell since he's always in hell. Now he's doing it to Camille, and…"
Simon turned suddenly and took hold of Prophet by wrists. "Stop. This isn't funny."
"I'm not trying to be funny, Doctor." Prophet's eyes widened slightly, his cheeks flushing. "I'm just spreading the truth."
"As often happens, the truth isn't wanted. That's why Prophet's so often end up dead."
Prophet just smirked.
Simon sighed. Dropping one of the boy's wrists, Simon turned. "I'm sorry, Captain."
"Get him off my ship," Mal said, voice low and dangerous. "Else I might do something we all might regret. I don't want to see him here again."
"River needs," Simon started, but swallowed the rest of whatever he'd been planning on saying. "I'll send Kaylee. Come on." Face red, obviously humiliated, Simon dragged Prophet out of the room.
Mal watched them go, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Gorram place. Gorram kids. And damn the tian sha de emo who'd ruined all their lives.
he chu sheng za jiao de zang huo: filthy fornicators of livestock
hau li ban pin rou: as close as I can get to gorgeous slap of meat
tian sha de emo: Goddamn monsters
Mal hated this place. He hated the looks he got from the students or patients or whatever the hell they were when he walked through the halls. Hated the doctors and Companions and teachers who said hello to him like they knew or cared who the hell he was. Hated how clean and neat it was, how comfortable and spacious the room he'd been given was, and how much like the Core it all felt. He hated that his door didn't lock, and that his room was next to Camille's and no one on his gorram crew would trade with him.
And he hated Garrison Pike. Hated the man's smug look and cool blue eyes. Hated that neatly trimmed goatee and his perfect clothes and Core-bred accent. Mal hated that Garrison had the money and intelligence to create this place, and that he'd made money in the war instead of lost everything. Hate his obvious education and brilliance and the way he could take care of people. Deserved to take care of...
Viciously, Mal backed away from that thought. Nothing mattered anyway. Only reason he was here was to make sure River got the help she needed without being taken advantage of. She were part of his crew and he didn't let anyone take advantage of his crew.
As for the rest of his crew, they didn't seem to be suspicious like they should be. Oh, Zoe always maintained a state of vigilance, but he could tell that she was viewing their stay as more a vacation than a protection gig. She and Wash had been tucked into their room practically since they got here, like they was happy to be away from Serenity for awhile. Never mind everyone in the place not only knew what they were doing, but were probably listening in and playing along. Jayne had found himself some playmate kids who wanted to spar with him, saying they needed to practice on someone who wouldn't fight fair. When he heard that he could do whatever he wanted to take 'em down, he'd volunteered enthusiastically. Book'd found one of the libraries and a few kids to pray with while Inara was chatting with the Companions. River and Kaylee were playing court to those that wanted to meet River, and Camille...
Weren't part of his crew.
Damn her. Damn her and her eyes and her skin and the way she smelled so... good under the sweat and grime and the blood that she washed off every time she got hurt. All of it had combined together and Mal could still smell Camille lingering in the air of his ship even though she was gone. She wouldn't be back, neither. She'd lied and she'd used him and it wasn't going to happen.
She didn't want him, anyway. And he certainly didn't want him. And yet...
Leaning against the edge of the flight controls, Mal closed his eyes, replaying what had happened when they'd landed in his mind. After introducing himself to Mal, Garrison had taken Camille into his arms, giving her the longest hug in the history of the 'verse. Mal had wanted to kill him, to go and pull her away, and he could feel the looks people were shooting at him as he tried to close himself off and not care. And then, after rocking her back and forth a bit, Garrison pulled away and aimed a kiss at her mouth. Mal had forced himself to watch, expressionless, watch as another man kissed his.... kised Camille. And then, Camille...
Camille had turned away. She'd turned away and kissed Garrison on the cheek before untangling herself from his arms.
Everyone gathered around had all broke into buzzing whispers, but Garrison had acted like nothing had happened. But it had. It had happened, and it was enough to make Mal wonder, even though he didn't want to. While on of the boys had pulled Camille aside, Garrison had explained he had rooms for them all and they were all welcome and blah, blah, blah. Then, Camille had been led away to get her arm fixed, and the rest of them started the process of moving in.
"You're welcome anywhere in the complex," Garrison had said before he'd left. "Nothing is closed to you and you may do as you wish. The only thing I ask is that, unless absolutely necessary, you join us for breakfast and dinner." He'd smiled like he were embarrassed or something. "It's a house rule that everyone, guest, worker, and student alike, are required to follow."
"And if I decide to stay on my ship?" Mal had asked.
"Then take it back into orbit so as not to upset the routine," Garrison replied blandly.
"We'll be at the meals," Zoe had broken in. "It's no problem."
Mal hate it here. He wanted his sky back. He wanted things to be uncomplicated--well. Sort uncomplicated, again.
"No, really, it's all right," he heard Simon saying down in the cargo hold. "I'm only getting a few things, I don't need any help Go back to the school."
"Naw," an unfamiliar voice said. "I've got nothing to do right now. Besides, I wanted to see the ship anyway."
Mal dropped the rag he'd been using to clean and left the cockpit. He got to the main hold in time to see Simon disappear into the common area. A stranger, a lanky, dark-haired boy dressed in black, was following him. He stopped just at the top of the stairs and turned. Sharp blue eyes found Mal's immediately.
The eyes seemed to cut right through Mal. The boy was stock still, head titled like he was listening for something. Mal felt utterly exposed, dissected and naked. He could even feel it, feel the boy rummaging through his mind and there was nothing he could do.
He swallowed against a sudden bought of nausea and put a hand to his head. "Hey," he said, throat dry so it came out as a whisper. Mal swallowed and inhaled, prepared to shout at the boy, when the kid smirked and jogged into the common area after Simon.
What the hell did Simon think he was doing, bringing one of them on board? Cursing under his breath, Mal stormed down. This was his ship. His refuge. These damn psychics had an entire moon to play on; they didn't need his ship too.
Or his crew. Okay, yeah, Simon was probably talking to everyone here to get information on how to help River, but this child wasn't a doctor. He was a patient and had no business here.
He was going to have to institute a rule. No one as allowed to sleep with anyone here--except for Kaylee and maybe River. Mal didn't trust this whole androgen blocker thing. To him, it sounded more like an excuse for promiscuity and, very likely, for a dirty old man to take advantage of some very attractive adolescents. It was one thing to sleep with normal adults that hadn't been lab rats for the Alliance, but it was another to sleep with them who weren't exactly in their right mind. At least River and Kaylee knew each other and Mal trusted both of them. He didn't trust anyone on this moon.
"So, this is where the magic happens, huh?" an unfamiliar voice said inside Simon's room.
"If by magic you mean River occasionally throwing-up," Simon responded, sounding weary, "then, yes. It is."
Mal crossed the common area to Simon's room and looked at the scene inside. Simon was going through his trunk, pulling out what Mal knew to be his favorite shirts and slacks, as well as underwear and other sundries. He also pulled out the occasional book, data pad, and trinket that looked to belong to River.
The boy was lounging on Simon's bed, looking comfortable. He was stretched out, facing Simon, elegant, pale hand slowly caressing the tautly pulled comforter on Simon's bed.
"Ah, come on," the boy wheedled. "You really mean to say that with a crew this pretty, you're not getting some action?"
"I mean to say." He didn't sound all that happy or interested in what the boy was asking. As usual, Simon was intent in the task at hand which, to Mal's displeasure, was apparently getting clothes and books and stuffing them into a bag to take over to the base.
The boy sort of sighed, sat up, and picked up Simon's pillow. "So you're not sleeping with anyone, but you must ease your tension somehow." He pressed the pillow to his face and inhaled deeply, eyes sliding to Mal's. "So, who's your fantasy material? That muscular merc? The Companion? The cute mechanic because, wow, kinky. Or," the boy winked at Mal, "is it that hau li ban pin rou of a captain you have running this ship?"
Simon sighed. "That is a rather personal questiong, don't you think?"
"Probably." He looked like he was talking to Mal, but his voice was pitched at Simon. "Why aren't you with anyone? You're good looking. Brilliant. Clean. You can't tell me that no one here wants you."
Mal was about to say something to stop this farce when Simon said, "It's never worked out. The first person I thought I wanted ended up being more like a sister to me. Then, she started sleeping with my sister, so that ended that. At least, I thought she was sleeping with my sister since no one deigned to tell me that a formerly very sexual young woman was perfectly happy to be in a relationship with an eighteen year-old girl who is apparently incapable of having any sexual feeling because those he chu sheng za jiao de zang huo wanted not only her brain but her entire life. And, meanwhile, despite having no compelling reason, the captain rebuffed my every advance, only to fall in l.."
"I'd stop talking right now if I were you," Mal cut in.
Simon stiffened and turned. His face was sheet white and his hands gripped the bag he was holding tightly. "Captain. I didn't know you were here." He glanced at the boy, who merely shrugged, smiled, and smelled the pillow again.
"It's my ship. There's work to be done," Mal said. "What are you doing bringing one of them here?"
"He followed me." He sounded offended. "I didn't bring him."
"And you didn't know he was following? You couldn't tell him to run back home, that he weren't wanted here?"
"Believe me," Simon replied, voice exquisitely dry. "I've been trying to get rid of him for some time. It hasn't worked."
"It ain't all that hard, Doctor. Just tell him to leave you alone." Mal looked at the boy. "You ain't welcome here."
The boy smiled prettily. "Don't worry. I won't be here long."
"No, you ain't stayin' at all. Go. Go play with your friends or yourself or whatever. We're trying to work here."
"You're dusting your cockpit," the boy said, enunciating every syllable sharply, "and Doctor Tam is packing. I'm interrupting nothing."
"Look, boy," Mal started, but Simon interrupted him with a quiet, "Mal."
Mal looked at him, ready to continue the fight, but the doctor gave the briefest shake of his head, like to say it weren't worth it. Mal was about to light into him when Simon began speaking again.
"I'm sorry, Captain," Simon said, sounding truly contrite. "I didn't realize it would be a problem. I just wanted some changes of clothes and a few things to read. I didn't even realize anyone was here."
"Just because a ship ain't flying, don't mean she's grounded. This is still a working ship..."
"Barely," the boy stuck in.
"Prophet, please."
"What?" Prophet grinned at Simon. "You think he doesn't know that the only thing holding this boat together is twine and prayer? It's not an insult. I think it's rather admirable that he has so much faith in something. Even a bucket of bolts."
Mal stepped inside, fists clenched. "You want to keep breathing, boy?"
Prophet stood in one fluid motion. "Yes, I do, thank you." He dropped the pillow and stepped closer to Mal. "I'm sure it's a good ship. Having never flown in it myself, I only know what I see." His head tilted to the left, eyes narrowing. "However, the fact is, if it weren't for your genius mechanic who can work miracles with twine and spit and prayer and a first mate willing to kill and die for you, and a crew you've managed to weld into a family, you wouldn't be able to fly the black. You'd just be stuck back on..." He broke off, frowning. "That doesn't make any sense. The ship is named Serenity. How could you be stuck here if.... Ah. As in the valley. I get it." He turned to Simon. "Lovely name. Camille's dad was killed there, incidentally. He wasn't the only one."
The thought wasn't fully articulated in his mind ,which was probably how he got the upper hand on Mal. All he knew was, one moment, he was just standing there and, the next, he had Prophet by the shoulder, whirling him around.
It felt good to hit someone, even if the face he was pounding wasn't the one he wanted.
"Mal!" Simon shouted. He stepped in front of Prophet, blocking Mal. "We are guests here."
"He's the mind reader. Why didn't he see that coming?" Mal asked, caressing his broken knuckles.
Prophet turned in Simon's arms and rolled his eyes at Mal. There was a dark purple bruise on his once flawless cheek. "You have to have a thought in order for a reader to read your mind." He didn't seem angry. In fact, he seemed almost happy, like he'd gotten what he wanted. In fact, he stepped back from Simon and touched the bruise. "How does it look, Doctor?"
Simon took Prophet's chin in his hand and tilted his head, examining the bruise. Prophet's eyes fluttered shut, highlighting his insanely long lashes. The boy was beautiful, almost ethereally so. He was strangely feminine and it bothered Mal, not because he had anything against it, but because, well. Everything about this place bothered him.
"You're fine," Simon said, releasing Prophet and stepping back. "But you should get ice on it. Let's head back to the school."
"All right."
Simon turned. "Will you come with us, Captain?"
"No, I'll be along in a bit I wanted to finish up here. I do have work to do, a ship to keep in order and all. Plus, I've a necklace to sell and want to start lookin' at buyers."
Prophet smirked. "You're not going to sell that necklace. It saved Camille's life."
Mal glared. "Only gratefulness I feel for the necklace is that it saved the lives of my crew," he said shortly. "If that thing had hit Camille in the spine, we'd all be dead. Ain't her life I care about."
"I see why you like him so much," Prophet said to Simon. He moved closer and put his hands on Simon's shoulders. "He's wonderfully self-deluded, isn't he?"
Simon swallowed hard as Prophet leaned in, his lips close to Simon's ear. "It's really not my place to say," Simon said. "Perhaps we should…"
"First," Prophet interrupted, "he ignores his feelings for you. He pretends it's for your own good, that he's too damaged and bitter to feel, even though he feels very deeply. The problem is, he has some idealized idea of what love and life should be. He's afraid to love, to trust, so he makes those he does care for go through hell since he's always in hell. Now he's doing it to Camille, and…"
Simon turned suddenly and took hold of Prophet by wrists. "Stop. This isn't funny."
"I'm not trying to be funny, Doctor." Prophet's eyes widened slightly, his cheeks flushing. "I'm just spreading the truth."
"As often happens, the truth isn't wanted. That's why Prophet's so often end up dead."
Prophet just smirked.
Simon sighed. Dropping one of the boy's wrists, Simon turned. "I'm sorry, Captain."
"Get him off my ship," Mal said, voice low and dangerous. "Else I might do something we all might regret. I don't want to see him here again."
"River needs," Simon started, but swallowed the rest of whatever he'd been planning on saying. "I'll send Kaylee. Come on." Face red, obviously humiliated, Simon dragged Prophet out of the room.
Mal watched them go, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Gorram place. Gorram kids. And damn the tian sha de emo who'd ruined all their lives.
he chu sheng za jiao de zang huo: filthy fornicators of livestock
hau li ban pin rou: as close as I can get to gorgeous slap of meat
tian sha de emo: Goddamn monsters
