Firefly Fic
Oct. 17th, 2005 06:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20I don't know. Chapter six?
Mal woke early the next morning, a little disoriented by the fact he wasn't in his bunk. Even though the bed was comfortable and the room was the right temperature and airy and had a nice view of the mountains and the sky, he hadn't slept all that well the night before. Fact was, no matter how comfortable a place, nothing felt like home the way his ship did. And maybe he didn't sleep that well usually anyway, but it was different when he was on Serenity.
He had about an hour or so before his presence was required at breakfast. With any luck, he'd be there early enough to get a table no where near Camille. He didn't think he could take another awkward meal watching her watch him.
Mal showered and dressed. Like he'd told Prophet the day before, Serenity may be temporarily grounded, but it was still a working ship. There was paperwork to be done, and the ship could use a tune-up. Maybe he wouldn't be able to finish it all today, but he could certainly get started.
He was half-way down the hall when he heard a door open.
"Ma... Captain Reynolds!"
Camille. He didn't like her calling him Captain no more, but he understood it. They weren't exactly in a friendly kinda place right now.
He turned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Miss Bowling."
She winced. "I, uh. I..."
"Let me guess. Your last name isn't Bowling."
"No." She was dressed in the same clothes as last night, only now they looked rumpled and slept in. Her hair was a little knotted and tangled, part of it sticking up. She looked horrible, like she was sick or something. Her skin was chalky pale with dark circles under her eyes. And her eyes themselves were red, like she'd been crying.
Mal frowned and stepped closer to her. "You okay?"
Camille blinked her bloodshot eyes, surprised. Quickly, she ran a hand over her hair, then rubbed her eyes. "Um, yeah. Hard night. Prophet and I talked about Trinity, and then River came in and we were talking and..." She shrugged. "We did a lot of crying. That's all." She rubbed her eyes.
"But. You're okay."
"Yes, Mal. I am." She licked her lips and looked at him, color coming back to her face.
God, why did she pull at him so?
He cleared his throat and moved away. "Good. Shiny." He looked away. "I'm glad you're all right."
"Thank you."
"So. Is there some reason you stopped me?"
"Yeah. I, um. Prophet was lying to you yesterday. When he said that, you know. You managed to hit him because you weren't thinking before you swung?"
Mal turned back to her, frowning. "What?"
She smiled and sheepishly shrugged. "He wanted you to hit him. He wanted to be hurt. Prophet's not in a good place right now. He and Trinity were real close, and he's shook up because of her death. And now with River.... He remembers her, and we all got issues that pop up when a new kid comes. That's why he's being jerk." Her nose wrinkled. "Not that he's ever a bright ball of sunshine in the best of cases."
"So I gathered. Why you telling me this, anyway? Trying to make me feel bad?"
"No. God, no, Mal, I... Not all of us got out. There's a chance that maybe you'll have to face a psychic one day and I don't want you fallin' back on bad advice that Prophet gave you on while on his self-destructive rampage."
"This may be hard for you believe, darlin', but I am not a moron. I seen what they did to Jayne, and he's got less thought in his brain then anyone I know. I ain't gonna do something stupid like think what some chou wang ba dan of a boy tells me is gospel. Dong ma?"
She looked wilted. Defeated. He hadn't meant to do that, but she twisted him around so that it just came out without him thinking.
"Right," Camille said, eyelashes lowered. She hugged her body, gnawing on her lower lip.
"Camille." He didn't like seeing her like this. It was easier before, when she'd been lying to him. It'd been easier when he thought she'd just... go back to being the same girl he'd.... the same girl she'd been before the party.
Camille licked her lips. Staring at his belt buckle, she said softly, "Mal, I'm sorry I lied to you. I didn't know how to tell you the truth. I ain't never told no one that didn't already know. And I liked you. I liked you a lot. I didn't want you looking at me different."
"Okay. I guess I can get that. You're carrying around a big secret, hiding from the Alliance. I don't like that you put my crew in danger, but, then, I suppose that you didn't add any more than usual what with River and all. And, there's maybe a chance you saved me a bit, 'cause there's a chance that, had I seen you at that party I mighta asked you to dance."
That brought a smile to her face. "I would have flirted with you. Especially since I woulda known you didn't belong there. I would have wanted to know why." Her brow furrowed, mouth crimping. "And you have died. They would have killed you, just because I was there. Because I talked to you. All those people died because of me."
"No." Without thinking about it, he stepped into her, pulling her to him. "No, Camille, it weren't because of you. The Alliance bastards are the one who started it, not you. It weren't you and you have nothing to feel guilty about."
"I'm sorry." She wiped her eyes on his shirt. "My eyes hurt."
"Well, then, you need to stop crying." He cleared his throat, still holding onto her. "Cryin' is all well and good, but not if you're gonna blame yourself for things you ain't go no share in."
"It feels like everything I'm used to is ending. I don't know what to do." She clutched at him, pressing her face into his chest. "Garrison said that we might all have to leave here. That the Alliance might still track us down, and we'll have to scatter."
That thought had occurred to Mal. It was a nice moon, secluded, out of the way. No real travel came through, no nearby settlements. Still, there were a lot of people, and these kids were been looked for. You could only keep somethin' this big hidden for so long. "He got a plan?"
Camille nodded and looked up at him. "It's all worked out, always has been. Evacuation routes and all. What we're supposed to do after. There's codes and an all call and Garrison knows where we go next once everything is safe." Her lower lip trembled. "I don't want to leave. I mean, I'm fine traveling, but I don't want to have to go somewhere else when I need to come back."
"Sounds like you're taking on a whole heap of trouble that you don't need." He wiped a tear away. "Don't."
"But I hate..."
"Don't worry about it."
"But..."
"Camille."
"Right. Right, sorry." She wiped her eyes and smiled in a self-deprecating way. "Um. Anyway. You, uh. You might want to talk to Garrison about that. The scatter thing."
"Any reason why?"
She blinked up at him. "He kind of wants me to stick with River. Just 'cause we're friends and all. And he kind of wants me to stay with Prophet."
Mal raised his eyebrow. "He wants you and Prophet to come on my ship."
Camille nodded, biting her lower lip once more.
Woa de tian a. "Well that's just. Shiny," he said with no real enthusiasm.
"I'll talk to him. Or you can. Tell him that you don't want us around. That it won't work."
"Camille..."
"Mal, it's all right." Gently, she pushed his arms off her and stepped away. "I should go shower and put on clothes that don't stink and all. I'll see you at breakfast. And, um. I'll try not to sit at the same table, because..."
"I don't hate you," he said, just to make her shut up. And because it was true.
Her face lit up all pretty and her lips curled into a pleased little smile. "I'm glad to hear."
"I mean. If you want to sit together, that'd be fine. I mean. You know."
"Yeah. All right." She ran her hand through her hair again. "I'll see you later."
"Right. Later." He hesitated a moment, then turned and resumed walking down the hall to his ship.
"It's O'Malley."
Mal turned. Camille was still standing in the hall where he'd left her, hands in her pockets, head titled in a way that reminded him of the old Camille that he'd known back in the black. "What?"
"My real last night. It's O'Malley." She licked her lips, then added, "Kathleen O'Malley."
"You're the Kathleen River kept talking about."
"It used to be my name."
Mal nodded. "I understand. I'll see you at breakfast." Then, feeling a little lighter, he continued on to his ship.
I'm suddenly feeling *really* icky. I had a cookie when I woke up from my nap and it's just sitting there. According to one of my coworkers, it's okay to be sick because then you don't eat a lot.
...
I'm seriously thinking she's anorexic. She loves to exercise (ride her bike, swim, walk, whatever) and, in fact, joined the army when she was 18 partly so she could exercise (and travel), but she's paranoid about what she eats. Remember that scene in Clueless where Cher talks about what a "hefier" she was because she had a whole bowl of Special K, five peanut butter M&Ms, a handful of popcorn, and something else? That's Ji. She eats nothing but low fat Wheat Thins all day, then talks about how many calories she's consumed. She weighs maybe the same as I do (maybe a littel more) and talks about her thunder thighs to our overweight coworker. It's sick. And she's in her fifties and I understand eating disorders know no age, but still. It's weird.
Mal woke early the next morning, a little disoriented by the fact he wasn't in his bunk. Even though the bed was comfortable and the room was the right temperature and airy and had a nice view of the mountains and the sky, he hadn't slept all that well the night before. Fact was, no matter how comfortable a place, nothing felt like home the way his ship did. And maybe he didn't sleep that well usually anyway, but it was different when he was on Serenity.
He had about an hour or so before his presence was required at breakfast. With any luck, he'd be there early enough to get a table no where near Camille. He didn't think he could take another awkward meal watching her watch him.
Mal showered and dressed. Like he'd told Prophet the day before, Serenity may be temporarily grounded, but it was still a working ship. There was paperwork to be done, and the ship could use a tune-up. Maybe he wouldn't be able to finish it all today, but he could certainly get started.
He was half-way down the hall when he heard a door open.
"Ma... Captain Reynolds!"
Camille. He didn't like her calling him Captain no more, but he understood it. They weren't exactly in a friendly kinda place right now.
He turned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Miss Bowling."
She winced. "I, uh. I..."
"Let me guess. Your last name isn't Bowling."
"No." She was dressed in the same clothes as last night, only now they looked rumpled and slept in. Her hair was a little knotted and tangled, part of it sticking up. She looked horrible, like she was sick or something. Her skin was chalky pale with dark circles under her eyes. And her eyes themselves were red, like she'd been crying.
Mal frowned and stepped closer to her. "You okay?"
Camille blinked her bloodshot eyes, surprised. Quickly, she ran a hand over her hair, then rubbed her eyes. "Um, yeah. Hard night. Prophet and I talked about Trinity, and then River came in and we were talking and..." She shrugged. "We did a lot of crying. That's all." She rubbed her eyes.
"But. You're okay."
"Yes, Mal. I am." She licked her lips and looked at him, color coming back to her face.
God, why did she pull at him so?
He cleared his throat and moved away. "Good. Shiny." He looked away. "I'm glad you're all right."
"Thank you."
"So. Is there some reason you stopped me?"
"Yeah. I, um. Prophet was lying to you yesterday. When he said that, you know. You managed to hit him because you weren't thinking before you swung?"
Mal turned back to her, frowning. "What?"
She smiled and sheepishly shrugged. "He wanted you to hit him. He wanted to be hurt. Prophet's not in a good place right now. He and Trinity were real close, and he's shook up because of her death. And now with River.... He remembers her, and we all got issues that pop up when a new kid comes. That's why he's being jerk." Her nose wrinkled. "Not that he's ever a bright ball of sunshine in the best of cases."
"So I gathered. Why you telling me this, anyway? Trying to make me feel bad?"
"No. God, no, Mal, I... Not all of us got out. There's a chance that maybe you'll have to face a psychic one day and I don't want you fallin' back on bad advice that Prophet gave you on while on his self-destructive rampage."
"This may be hard for you believe, darlin', but I am not a moron. I seen what they did to Jayne, and he's got less thought in his brain then anyone I know. I ain't gonna do something stupid like think what some chou wang ba dan of a boy tells me is gospel. Dong ma?"
She looked wilted. Defeated. He hadn't meant to do that, but she twisted him around so that it just came out without him thinking.
"Right," Camille said, eyelashes lowered. She hugged her body, gnawing on her lower lip.
"Camille." He didn't like seeing her like this. It was easier before, when she'd been lying to him. It'd been easier when he thought she'd just... go back to being the same girl he'd.... the same girl she'd been before the party.
Camille licked her lips. Staring at his belt buckle, she said softly, "Mal, I'm sorry I lied to you. I didn't know how to tell you the truth. I ain't never told no one that didn't already know. And I liked you. I liked you a lot. I didn't want you looking at me different."
"Okay. I guess I can get that. You're carrying around a big secret, hiding from the Alliance. I don't like that you put my crew in danger, but, then, I suppose that you didn't add any more than usual what with River and all. And, there's maybe a chance you saved me a bit, 'cause there's a chance that, had I seen you at that party I mighta asked you to dance."
That brought a smile to her face. "I would have flirted with you. Especially since I woulda known you didn't belong there. I would have wanted to know why." Her brow furrowed, mouth crimping. "And you have died. They would have killed you, just because I was there. Because I talked to you. All those people died because of me."
"No." Without thinking about it, he stepped into her, pulling her to him. "No, Camille, it weren't because of you. The Alliance bastards are the one who started it, not you. It weren't you and you have nothing to feel guilty about."
"I'm sorry." She wiped her eyes on his shirt. "My eyes hurt."
"Well, then, you need to stop crying." He cleared his throat, still holding onto her. "Cryin' is all well and good, but not if you're gonna blame yourself for things you ain't go no share in."
"It feels like everything I'm used to is ending. I don't know what to do." She clutched at him, pressing her face into his chest. "Garrison said that we might all have to leave here. That the Alliance might still track us down, and we'll have to scatter."
That thought had occurred to Mal. It was a nice moon, secluded, out of the way. No real travel came through, no nearby settlements. Still, there were a lot of people, and these kids were been looked for. You could only keep somethin' this big hidden for so long. "He got a plan?"
Camille nodded and looked up at him. "It's all worked out, always has been. Evacuation routes and all. What we're supposed to do after. There's codes and an all call and Garrison knows where we go next once everything is safe." Her lower lip trembled. "I don't want to leave. I mean, I'm fine traveling, but I don't want to have to go somewhere else when I need to come back."
"Sounds like you're taking on a whole heap of trouble that you don't need." He wiped a tear away. "Don't."
"But I hate..."
"Don't worry about it."
"But..."
"Camille."
"Right. Right, sorry." She wiped her eyes and smiled in a self-deprecating way. "Um. Anyway. You, uh. You might want to talk to Garrison about that. The scatter thing."
"Any reason why?"
She blinked up at him. "He kind of wants me to stick with River. Just 'cause we're friends and all. And he kind of wants me to stay with Prophet."
Mal raised his eyebrow. "He wants you and Prophet to come on my ship."
Camille nodded, biting her lower lip once more.
Woa de tian a. "Well that's just. Shiny," he said with no real enthusiasm.
"I'll talk to him. Or you can. Tell him that you don't want us around. That it won't work."
"Camille..."
"Mal, it's all right." Gently, she pushed his arms off her and stepped away. "I should go shower and put on clothes that don't stink and all. I'll see you at breakfast. And, um. I'll try not to sit at the same table, because..."
"I don't hate you," he said, just to make her shut up. And because it was true.
Her face lit up all pretty and her lips curled into a pleased little smile. "I'm glad to hear."
"I mean. If you want to sit together, that'd be fine. I mean. You know."
"Yeah. All right." She ran her hand through her hair again. "I'll see you later."
"Right. Later." He hesitated a moment, then turned and resumed walking down the hall to his ship.
"It's O'Malley."
Mal turned. Camille was still standing in the hall where he'd left her, hands in her pockets, head titled in a way that reminded him of the old Camille that he'd known back in the black. "What?"
"My real last night. It's O'Malley." She licked her lips, then added, "Kathleen O'Malley."
"You're the Kathleen River kept talking about."
"It used to be my name."
Mal nodded. "I understand. I'll see you at breakfast." Then, feeling a little lighter, he continued on to his ship.
I'm suddenly feeling *really* icky. I had a cookie when I woke up from my nap and it's just sitting there. According to one of my coworkers, it's okay to be sick because then you don't eat a lot.
...
I'm seriously thinking she's anorexic. She loves to exercise (ride her bike, swim, walk, whatever) and, in fact, joined the army when she was 18 partly so she could exercise (and travel), but she's paranoid about what she eats. Remember that scene in Clueless where Cher talks about what a "hefier" she was because she had a whole bowl of Special K, five peanut butter M&Ms, a handful of popcorn, and something else? That's Ji. She eats nothing but low fat Wheat Thins all day, then talks about how many calories she's consumed. She weighs maybe the same as I do (maybe a littel more) and talks about her thunder thighs to our overweight coworker. It's sick. And she's in her fifties and I understand eating disorders know no age, but still. It's weird.
