Sam/River- Spin the Carousel 1/?
Title: Spin The Carousel 1/?
Author: Liv
Fandom: Firefly/Supernatural
Characters: San, River, Simon, Zoe, Mal, Jayne, Kaylee, Wash, Niska, the Operative
30_shinyfics Prompt: 30. ghost
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters before you. They belong to their respective creators and not me.
Author’s Note: There’s this one part where...just...don’t ask. I had to put it in because...you’ll see.
Sam had his arm slung over River’s shoulders as they watched Mal hand out mail, tossing a box at Jayne absentmindedly and nearly hitting the man in the head. Luckily he caught it.
Mal paused and stared at a letter in his hand, poising to toss it at someone. His stare became dark and instead of tossing it to someone he ripped it open and stared at the contents of the letter.
"What is it?" asked Jayne, craning his neck slightly to see whatever it was in Mal’s hands. Mal turned the letter upside down and an ear fell out onto the floor with a splat.
"Niska," he said, staring at the ground.
"What kind of freak sends someone an ear?" asked Sam, staring nauseously at the ground.
"He wants us on a job," said Mal, causing Zoë to look over at him sharply.
"Whose ear is that?" asked Jayne, staring at the piece of flesh with a nauseated expression on his face.
"Whoever it is I hope they’re out of their misery," said Simon, shaking his head.
"Who sends someone an ear?" Sam wondered out loud, looking up at Mal.
"Adelei Niska," said Zoë, looking over at Sam. "He’s a psychotic crime boss."
"Yeah," interrupted Jayne. "Gets his jollies from torturin’ folk. What’s he want us to do a job for?"
"Maybe he misses us," said the memory of Walsh inside River’s head, which made her smile as well as going unnoticed by anyone.
Mal didn’t say anything for the rest of the time they were there. He handed Kaylee a few things she got from home in the mail and tucked the letter away in his coat, grunting at his crew to get back onto the ship, each one of them looking back at the ear they left to stink on the ground.
.
Adelei Niska was not a very patient man. This, this operative was have been standing in front of him five minutes ago and there was no operative. Niska waved off one of his bodyguards as they tried to offer him something to eat or drink. After another painfully long minute there was a sharp knock on the door.
"You’re late," said the door guard, stepping in front of the operative as he tried to enter.
"Move away," snapped Niska, before the Operative had a chance to speak. His guard did so and Niska grinned at the man standing before him.
"You’ll forgive my tardiness," said the Operative, with no intention on hearing an answer.
“Of course,” muttered Niska, watching the Operative as he moved to the walls of his office. Somewhere in the chamber off to his right the man bound and gagged let out a whimper, but either the Operative didn’t notice or ignored it.
"You’re very sure he got the message?" asked the Operative, staring at a painting hanging on the wall.
“I’m positive, Mr. Operative,” said Niska, watching him with his breath slightly held. “I’m fairly certain he will contact me to inquire about the ear.
“Good,” said the Operative with a slow nod. He lingered at the painting for a moment longer and turned away from it and nodding at Niska. “Good.”
“If I may, why Serenity?” asked Niska, his tongue sliding along his rotting teeth. “What could you possibly find worth value on a pirate ship?”
“Nothing,” said the Operative, turning from Niska and heading for the door slowly. “Nothing that would make someone like you drool.”
"What’s in it for me?" asked Niska. The operative stopped and turned slowly, Niska grinning at him in a way that made him want to be sick. Instead, however, he retraced his steps and slowly pulled his sword, pointing it at Niska, the edge of the blade grazing against his throat.
"You’re life," said the Operative gently; calculating the facial twitch his sword caused the Russian. Niska swallowed, pulling away from the Operative’s sword, his eyes flickering down the blade and back up, catching the man’s eyes.
“You’ll contact me when Captain Reynolds comes to see you,” said the Operative, turning away from Niska, removing his sword from his neck and replacing it back in it’s sheath.
Author: Liv
Fandom: Firefly/Supernatural
Characters: San, River, Simon, Zoe, Mal, Jayne, Kaylee, Wash, Niska, the Operative
30_shinyfics Prompt: 30. ghost
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters before you. They belong to their respective creators and not me.
Author’s Note: There’s this one part where...just...don’t ask. I had to put it in because...you’ll see.
Sam had his arm slung over River’s shoulders as they watched Mal hand out mail, tossing a box at Jayne absentmindedly and nearly hitting the man in the head. Luckily he caught it.
Mal paused and stared at a letter in his hand, poising to toss it at someone. His stare became dark and instead of tossing it to someone he ripped it open and stared at the contents of the letter.
"What is it?" asked Jayne, craning his neck slightly to see whatever it was in Mal’s hands. Mal turned the letter upside down and an ear fell out onto the floor with a splat.
"Niska," he said, staring at the ground.
"What kind of freak sends someone an ear?" asked Sam, staring nauseously at the ground.
"He wants us on a job," said Mal, causing Zoë to look over at him sharply.
"Whose ear is that?" asked Jayne, staring at the piece of flesh with a nauseated expression on his face.
"Whoever it is I hope they’re out of their misery," said Simon, shaking his head.
"Who sends someone an ear?" Sam wondered out loud, looking up at Mal.
"Adelei Niska," said Zoë, looking over at Sam. "He’s a psychotic crime boss."
"Yeah," interrupted Jayne. "Gets his jollies from torturin’ folk. What’s he want us to do a job for?"
"Maybe he misses us," said the memory of Walsh inside River’s head, which made her smile as well as going unnoticed by anyone.
Mal didn’t say anything for the rest of the time they were there. He handed Kaylee a few things she got from home in the mail and tucked the letter away in his coat, grunting at his crew to get back onto the ship, each one of them looking back at the ear they left to stink on the ground.
.
Adelei Niska was not a very patient man. This, this operative was have been standing in front of him five minutes ago and there was no operative. Niska waved off one of his bodyguards as they tried to offer him something to eat or drink. After another painfully long minute there was a sharp knock on the door.
"You’re late," said the door guard, stepping in front of the operative as he tried to enter.
"Move away," snapped Niska, before the Operative had a chance to speak. His guard did so and Niska grinned at the man standing before him.
"You’ll forgive my tardiness," said the Operative, with no intention on hearing an answer.
“Of course,” muttered Niska, watching the Operative as he moved to the walls of his office. Somewhere in the chamber off to his right the man bound and gagged let out a whimper, but either the Operative didn’t notice or ignored it.
"You’re very sure he got the message?" asked the Operative, staring at a painting hanging on the wall.
“I’m positive, Mr. Operative,” said Niska, watching him with his breath slightly held. “I’m fairly certain he will contact me to inquire about the ear.
“Good,” said the Operative with a slow nod. He lingered at the painting for a moment longer and turned away from it and nodding at Niska. “Good.”
“If I may, why Serenity?” asked Niska, his tongue sliding along his rotting teeth. “What could you possibly find worth value on a pirate ship?”
“Nothing,” said the Operative, turning from Niska and heading for the door slowly. “Nothing that would make someone like you drool.”
"What’s in it for me?" asked Niska. The operative stopped and turned slowly, Niska grinning at him in a way that made him want to be sick. Instead, however, he retraced his steps and slowly pulled his sword, pointing it at Niska, the edge of the blade grazing against his throat.
"You’re life," said the Operative gently; calculating the facial twitch his sword caused the Russian. Niska swallowed, pulling away from the Operative’s sword, his eyes flickering down the blade and back up, catching the man’s eyes.
“You’ll contact me when Captain Reynolds comes to see you,” said the Operative, turning away from Niska, removing his sword from his neck and replacing it back in it’s sheath.