Who: Zoe Washburne, Malcolm Reynolds, Charlie McGee, Captain Hammer (open).
Where: The Dorms.
When: Morning, Day One.
Rating: PG-13 for possible violence and crude language due to the mass confusion.
Status: Closed/Finished.
Summary: Mal and Zoe head out to have a look around at precisely the same moment that Charlie and Captain Hammer head in to
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"Let's go then."
Hammer smiled and once again offered her his arm, mirroring his actions on the first beach they'd met on today.
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"Huh," was all he could come up with.
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... and then she stared.
She looked at the new people, and at the Captain, and back to the new people. Maybe it was just the fall, or the sun, or this was one crazy dream, but ... the guys looked like they could almost be twins.
Maybe a little more than almost. "What the hell?" she exclaimed, hugging herself tighter. She'd honestly hoped to make it up to her room without encountering anyone else, but this was beyond words.
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"Sir?" she asked, glancing back to her captain, looking uttering bewildered.
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"Who--" he began, his voice weak in his throat. What the fuck else was this crazy hell of a place going to think up next?
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He'd hardly taken a look at the man's companion. It was like lookin' in a gorramn mirror, only....different somehow. There was somethin' off about his apparent doppelganger.
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But that didn't explain, at all, how they looked alike.
And Charlie had no idea how to handle anything from here. Because this was just bizarre. She glanced up to Zoe to see if there was any recognition at all (maybe she'd actually met Zoe's twin, or something?) before she let her eyes flick back and forth between the guys.
She almost asked if they were from the oasis too, but she really didn't want to open her mouth for fear of what might actually come out.
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Finding his voice, he finished his question, "Who the hell are you?"
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Who was he? What kind of lame brained comment was that? Mal's brow furrowed in indignation.
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"Sarah?"
At this point, her hand was firmly planted atop the handle of her sawed-off and she'd subtly undone the strap that held it in place. She didn't know if Mal #2 meant trouble, but she certainly wasn't taking any chances.
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Never mind that he didn't know where "here" was, this was obviously some kind of trick or sick joke; someone had clearly cloned him and dressed him up in some god-awful suspenders as an added insult.
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"Clearly," he said hardly, "You're not."
What kind of a go tsao de idiot went around with a hammer plastered all over his shirt anyhow? It seemed entirely too Alliance-like for his liking. And the gloves? How could anyone take him seriously with those ridiculous gloves?
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"Would you like to borrow my vest?" she offered, eyes once again trailing between the two Captains, and more specifically, between Mal's pistol and the other man's fists. Both men seemed itching with indignation and she really didn't want a conflict just now, the stairwell wasn't the place for it. Too cramped; no way would it end well. She cast Mal a significant glance that hopefully conveyed as much.
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She wondered what the odds were of getting the two Captains separated without any bloodshed, and found she honestly didn't know. "Come on," she encouraged Captain Hammer. "Let's go find the rooms. So we can have something to eat."
Maybe if she could get them separated, they could meet up later and try to discuss this rationally. She almost laughed at that thought; Hammer didn't seem like the completely rational sort.
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"So, what are you Captain of?" he raised an eyebrow pointedly in Hammer's direction, and although his tone was mocking, he was actually morbidly curious.
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