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Whiskey, Cider, Wine One day, for Curikitten. Part One.
Whiskey
Serenity’s least likely couple sat at the back of the bar, putting as much distance, and as many tables, as they could between them and the rowdy festivities.
A waitress - and waitress she was, the long-sleeved blouse and respectable grey twill skirt elevated her above ‘tavern wench’ - flitted past their table, depositing two shots of sake and retreating to a discreet distance.
They looked at the drinks.
They drank the drinks.
They sighed.
“My little mei-mei’s all grown up,” Simon sighed, slumping forward to lean his elbows on the table (and nearly headbutting the poor waitress trying to retrieve the empty glasses).
Mal snorted. “An’ my l’il,” another snort, “Jayne’s ‘ll growed up too”. Simon raised an eyebrow. “Matured, then,” Mal conceded.
They looked over to the dancing couple. Jayne was wearing a suit - an actual suit - of fine grey cloth. Admittedly the jacket was slung over the back of his chair, and the cuffs of his linen shirt were now rolled up to the elbows, but still.....Jayne in a suit.
***
Simon had put off the confrontation for as many days as possible, but it was time to speak to the man-ape about this.
“Jayne?” The mercenary made a vaguely interrogative noise, and flicked a glance up from the hunting knife he was sharpening. “Um, when we land in Persephone next week, I’ll need to take you to my tailors to have you measured for your suit.” Simon would have been embarrassed to see how he cringed, anticipating a maelstrom of objections.
Jayne opened his mouth, clearly about to let fly, and then shut it with a snap. He looked over to River, seated opposite him at the dining table, allegedly polishing a small handgun, but clearly with an interest in the proceedings. She couldn’t keep the hopeful expression from her face, and Jayne folded immediately. Still, best to show at least a token resistance.
“Fine, “ he grouched. “But, anyone tries to measure my ‘inside leg’, that man’s gettin’ punched.” Simon grinned in relief.
“We can work with that.”
***
The waitress was back, depositing two glasses of whiskey before them, and disappeared swiftly into the crowd.
They looked at the drinks.
They drank the drinks.
They grimaced as the whiskey burnt its way down their throats.
“How long did you an’ River have to argue to get my merc all gussied up like that?” Mal asked, his voice slightly raspy from the burn of the cheap liquor.
“Actually, he was the easy one to deal with. You should have heard the girls squabbling with River over what she should wear.”
Mal looked at the bride. Her long, dark hair was in a loose braid down her back. A garland of white daisies - fresh and bright when Inara wove it this morning, now slightly wilted - sat on her head, slightly askew. She wore a white lace dress which came just below her knees, over a white cotton shift. On her feet she wore dainty white kid slippers, more like foot-gloves than shoes and utterly impractical.
“I’m guessin’ that dress were more a compromise on the girls’ parts than River’s?”
“Her whole outfit was a compromise. Inara suggested a heavy, cream satin. Zoe wanted - “
“Wait, Zoe got involved in all this?”
“Mal, haven’t you noticed that when one woman’s getting married, all her friends are either re-living or imagining their own weddings?”
“Well, I conjure that most women’ll go a l’il crazy around a wedding.... but Zoe? She’s... Well, she’s sensible.”
“Well, your second-in-command was all for a long, slinky wedding dress in raw silk. To - and this is a direct quote - ‘Show the groom what he can look forward to’.” Mal continued to gape at Zoe’s betrayal with the suggesting of feminine wiles. “And Kaylee was all for something long and lacy. Now River... well, my sister would have been happy to be married in her oldest sundress, but I gather the girls’ talked her around.”
“River was def’nite that she wanted a dress she could really dance in,” Kaylee chipped in, seemingly materialising at her boyfriend’s elbow. “She also mentioned somethin’ ‘bout Jayne havin’ ‘easy access’.” At this Simon plugged his fingers into his ears and hummed loudly and off-key, only pausing occasionally to shout:
“Not listening! Don’t want to know!”
Kaylee picked up Simon’s disappointingly empty whiskey glass and sniffed it, pulling a face at the strong fumes that hit her.
“Now,” she said briskly, “are you two gonna spend all night up here - broodin’ and gossipin like a pair of ole women, or’ya gonna come and join the party?”
Mal lifted his own whiskey glass and waggled it at her, clearly indicating that they were having quite a good party, right where they were, thank you.
“I’m serious! Don’t ya wanna dance with your sister, Simon? Cap’n, don’t you wanna congratulate ‘em?” The men shared a look.
“We’ll stick with the brooding for now, thanks Kaylee,” Mal smiled slightly to soften the sting of his bad mood.
“Fine, “ Kaylee huffed, “but you’d better join in sooner or later, or I’ll sic River on ya.” She flounced away to join the sea of whirling bodies at the front of the bar. The waitress appeared once again, bearing two tall glasses of beer. She sighed at their obviously disappointed faces.
“One sake, one whiskey, one beer. At no fewer than fifteen minute intervals.” She’d clearly been drilled in her recitation.
They looked at the beer.
They sipped the beer.
They sighed.
“So, doc, I still ain’t quite figured out how in the heck your sister ever came to be involved with that great lunk.” Simon shrugged.
“I can’t quite make that out myself. As far as I knew, one minute they were ignoring each other, and the next they were kissing in the med bay. My med bay.” He grimaced, and took a long pull of his beer as if to wash away a bad taste. Mal snickered.
“Excellent observation skills there, Mr. Top Three Percent”
“Well, you didn’t seem too clued-up either, until it was too late!”
“Well o’course I wouldn’t’a noticed. I’m generally busy with important and captain-ly duties.”
“Important?” Simon sputtered, “Well, next time I’m fishing lumps of bullet out of the various holes in your body, I’ll try to remember that monitoring ship-board romances is more important than ‘surgeon-ly’ duties.”
The two men sat sulkily sipping at their beer. At the appearance of the waitress, they drained the dregs of their glasses and sat up expectantly. She neatly deposited two shot glasses on the table before retreating a few steps.
They looked at the sake.
The downed the sake.
They handed the glasses back to the waiting waitress.
“So, you responsible for that ridiculous footwear your sister’s wearin’?” The question was snippy, but Simon knew it was the closest thing to a peace offering.
“Funny story, that...”
****
The debate had continued intermittently for several weeks, without approaching anything resembling resolution. Inara, Kaylee and eve Zoe had each tried to talk River down from her stubborn position, and finally all three had ganged up on her and planted her in front of the Cortex. It was Kaylee’s belief that showing River picture after picture of wedding shoes from the online catalogue would eventually soften her resolve and she would capitulate. So far, after seventy-two different kinds of shoe, the only thing that had been achieved were an awful lot of sighs from the ship’s mechanic.
“Ahem.” Jayne cleared his throat and four pairs of brown eyes were trained on him. “I ...uh, understan’ that there’s some uh... conflict, as t’ the matter of footwear?”
“She won’t have footwear,” River declared emphatically, her use of second person indicating how upset she was becoming over the matter. “You know. She likes the soil for her shoes and the sky for her hat.”
“Spike, “ Jayne said gently. He lifted her bodily from the chair and settled himself into it, before placing her delicately on his lap. “I really don’t want you walking around barefoot on Greenleaf. It ain’t a Core planet, ya know. Plen’y o’ sticks and glass and other gorram junk for ya ta get hurt on.” River sat back, her eyes spitting fire.
“She is old enough and sane enough to know how to look where she’s walking.” Her tone was venomous.
“That I know, Spike. But I was kinda hopin; you might be too busy gazin’ adorin’ly at me, on our weddin’ day.” River deflated visibly at his comment, and curled herself up against Jayne’s broad chest in a wordless apology.
“She will try to find some appropriate footwear for the day - she promises.”
“Well now, I might have sumthin’ ta help ya there.” He nodded to Inara and indicated the small brown box he had brought with him. Inara fetched it and, after another nod, lifted the lid. Jayne heard four distinct little, feminine gasps, and an anonymous “Oh, Jayne,” and grinned to himself. A pair of white, kid slippers sat nestled in the box. Inara’s appraising eye could immediately tell two things: those slippers would have been incredibly expensive and; they would be lucky to last past the one wear.
River reached out a hand to stroke the soft supple leather of the slippers, gave Jayne a beaming smile and a sweet, gentle kiss. The girls, recognising that their presence was now superfluous, slipped quietly from the room.
*****
The men sat, idly drumming their fingers on the table, waiting for the next drink to be delivered to them.
“Doc, I can’t figure out why, seein’ as you’re not exactly thrilled by today’s proceedings, you fronted up the full cost of these shenan...shinane....shignan... this wedding.” Mal stumbled slightly over his words, a reasonable occurrence for a man who’d been drinking ‘One sake, one whiskey, one beer. At no fewer than fifteen minute intervals’ for nearly 2 hours.
“I don’t disapprove.” Mal refused to grace this with a response. “It’s, well.... Look, it’s not Jayne. No one was ever going to be good enough for my sister.”
“Ah, the universal refrain of fathers and brothers alike.”
“And as for paying for the wedding well... That was mainly a matter of timing.”
****
The confirmation had come through via the cortex early that morning. The accounts of Simon Gabriel Tam had been ‘thawed’. His mouth twisted in something between wry humour and a grimace. He had not received full access to his accounts, they had been converted to a Trust Fund, which paid an annual annuity. So, no longer frozen, but definitely not liquid. ‘Thawed’ seemed as good a description as any.
Simon couldn’t decide between the warring emotions within him. Relief, that he could finally contribute to life on Serenity, that they didn’t have to scrape along the outer edges of the Alliance any longer, that he could shower River and his girlfriend with the trinkets and baubles he thought they deserved. Anger, that his father and the Alliance could still manipulate him. The control that others still had over his and River’s welfare made his shoulder-blades itch. And guilt, which had far more to do with his recent encounter with River than his money.
Two days ago, River had tugged him aside to the med-bay with a delighted expression. Jayne had proposed, she said, and they would get married as soon as time would allow. They would announce it at dinner tonight, but she couldn’t wait to tell her beloved ge-ge.
Simon had shouted, had sneered, had said... terrible things. River had started sobbing, and she’d screeched back at him, her anxiety showing in occasional lapses in grammar and the horrible pallor of her face.
“No, River,” he had said. “You cant. You won’t. I’m your brother, I only want what’s best for you, and one day you’ll thank me for putting a stop to this.”
She had taken three deep, shuddering breaths, trying to rein in her wild emotions. Her eyes were dry now, but tear-tracks still glistened on her cheeks.
“No, Simon.” Her voice was quiet and firm and her expression implacable. “You will not stop us. You are my brother. But not my father, and not my guardian. I seek your blessing, not your permission.
“You want what’s best for a different River. You are thinking of an adoring little girl who giggled and danced and corrected your spelling. You’re thinking of Innocent River. Or, perhaps you’re thinking of Helpless River, the girl who needed to be rescued, who was incoherent and lost. That is not me anymore, Simon. I’m a fighter, and a killer. I’m a pilot, and a reader. I’m a woman, and a lover. And being with Jayne, marrying Jayne, is what’s best for me.”
She hadn’t come to dinner that night, and Jayne had left the table early, telling Kaylee that he was “taking a plate to Spike”. The following night Jayne was conspicuously absent from the table, River was pale and aloof, and the rest of the crew seemed unwilling or unable to overcome the chilly atmosphere.
Simon had fumed, had vented his frustrations to Kaylee - who flatly refused to become involved in the sibling’s quarrell - and finally he had thought ovre River’s words. He remembered his bright, beautiful little sister from Osiris. He had expected to watch her grow into a gifted, gorgeous debutante. He had expected to one day lose her to marriage, but he had wished that she would find a handsome, intelligent, well-mannered man who would treasure and cherish her. And, yes, Jayne was the antithesis of the man he had hoped for her. But, if he was honest, River was almost the antithesis of the young girl in his memory.
Jayne certainly cherished her. You’d have to be blind and stupid not to see that, for Jayne, the sun rose and set in River’s eye, and all the planets in the ‘verse turned at her command.
He protected her, too. Simon had removed at least two bullets from the merc, and weaved a nasty knife wound, all of which were taken in defence of River.
If Simon were truly, brutally honest with himself, he’d admit that Jayne’s relationship with River went quite a long way to bringing out River’s new personality, even before their burgeoning romance. Simon had given her refuge. Mal had given her an occupation. Jayne had given her jokes and laughter and a nickname, and conversations that, without pushing or prying, acknowledged frankly the skills she’d developed at the Academy.
He pulled River into the med-bay that evening, as she made her circuitous way through the ship toward the mess. She refused to look at him, but neither did she wrench herself away or run off. Simon took this as a good sign and plunged into his hastily prepared speech.
“River, I had some rather good news today.” He explained, as quickly and coherently as he could, the funds that had been released to him and their new, solvent situation. “Of course, I can’t touch anything except the annuity, but they did see fit to make a back payment for the last 5 years, which is a fairly tidy amount.” He took a deep, fortifying breath. “Certainly enough to cover a wedding celebration on Greenleaf when we stop there in a few weeks.”
River, usually so very quick-witted, blinked slowly at him, a puzzled wrinkle in her brow.
“I know I don’t have the right, or the power, to stop you getting married. But, I really don’t want to. Stop you, that is. And I do very much want to give my sister away at her wedding.” River’s answering smile was blinding in it’s brilliance, and Simon was surprised to find himself with a sudden armful of excitable, giggling sister.
That night, River and Jayne appeared in the mess well after the communal meal had started. Zoe and Inara shared a knowing glance at the couple’s disheveled appearance and nervous grins.
“Jayne has an announcement,” River declared loudly, giving the merc a little nudge with her elbow. Jayne seemed almost as surprised a the rest of the crew, but River gave his hand a tiny squeeze and he threw back his shoulders and faced the group.
“Ah.... Well, y’see....” Jayne tugged on River’s hand and pulled her in front of him, his hands resting on her shoulders. The gesture was surprisingly affectionate, and you could almost forget that he’d simultaneously turned his girlfriend into a human shield. “River and me are gonna be wed.”
*****
“So that’s why you weren’t more shocked,” said Mal, recalling with unusual clarity the stream of profane Mandarin that had come forth after Jayne’s announcement. “Sounds more like a hefty dose of guilt ya’ had there, more than jus’ ‘timing’.”
“Well, you’re correct to a point,” conceded Simon, “but I also hope that tonight’s generosity will protect me from River’s wrath when she finds out about the wedding present.”
“Why, didya’ forget to get ‘er one?” snickered Mal.
“Oh, no, “ said Simon, with a devilish grin. “I have a gift for them. I gave them two years’ supply of birth control.” Mal burst out laughing.
“I gotta tell you, Doc,” he gasped, trying to smother his laughter, “that’s a gift that will keep on giving to the whole crew!”
Two tumblers of clear, amber liquid were deposited in front of them and Mal took one last shuddering breath to contain himself.
They looked at the drinks.
They -
“I wouldn’t!” River’s voice was rich with amusement, and she grinned as two brunet heads snapped up to look at her. “That Uisce Beatha has been over one thousand years in the making, although, it has only spent thirty-five of those years encapsulated in a barrel.
“Back on Earth-that-was, the oldest licenced whiskey distillers were located in the north of Ireland. They triple-distilled their liquor, providing an exceptional smoothness, and the corns and barleys were dry roasted, rather than smoked, giving the whiskey a cleaner taste. Ireland's soft, temperate climate allowed for a very slow and gentle maturation process, leading to very mellow and flavoursome whiskeys.
“After the Exodus, the whiskey-makers finally settled on the second moon off Dyton - close to many of their country-men and in an environment that most closely matched the hills of Antrim. They re-established their distillery, and that, in your glass, is the end result.”
“Well, I thank you kindly for the history lesson, little ‘tross, but I think mainly whiskey is for drinking.” Mal raised his glass to take a hefty swig.
“Also, it’s 120 credits per bottle.” Mal sputtered and struggled not to spray the table with his - thankfully small - mouthful of whiskey. River patted his back kindly. “You might want to make it last.”
They looked at the whiskey.
They sipped the whiskey.
They smiled.
“So, little witch, why have we been graced with the finest in expensive liqueur on your weddin’ day?”
“Well, Captain Mal,” River replied, a mocking tone in her voice, but a smile twinkling in her eye, “I’m reliably informed that there’s a significant portion of grumbling and moping in this dark corner of yours. I thought perhaps a little something smoother and sweeter to drink might sweeten your tempers.”
“Mopin’?”
“Grumbling?” The men were indignant. River was merely amused. “Now, see here, Albatross, that’s nowhere near the mark. What’s happening here is - “
“Nostalgia.” Simon interrupted.
“ - reminiscing, “ continued Mal, unfazed. “In fact, perhaps you can fill in a blank in our memories. How’d this all start then?” River appeared confused.
“Well, Jayne and I stood before a man of the cloth and vowed - “
“No! No. I mean this whole grand romance - that has now been duly sanctified by the Lord, I’m sure. What started all this between you two?” River was pensive, and tapped her forefinger against her pursed, bow-shaped lips.
“Cider,” she declared finally.
“Cider?” the men’s voices were twin puzzled echoes.
“Cider, “ she confirmed with grin, and disappeared into the throng of revelers in search of her husband.
TBC in CIDER
Whiskey Redux
Simon sat back, idly toying with his glass of expensive whiskey and watching his sister’s wedding celebrations with a small smile. He took a tiny sip of his drink, savouring the delicate flavours, the smooth slide of the liquid down his throat, the comforting warmth it left in his belly. With a small grin, he thought there might be something to River’s comment that the new drink might sweeten his temper. Perhaps the rot-gut he’d been drinking earlier had soured his whole disposition?
He certainly felt far happier with the world now than several hours ago, drinking disconsolately with Mal. The Captain had joined the fray, taking the opportunity to wind himself around Inara in a series of slow dances. River and Jayne had danced almost the whole evening together, only stopping occasionally for a drink, or to accept congratulations from well-wishers, or to steal small kisses from one another.
A strange, almost giddy sensation washed over him, and he felt suddenly disconnected from the scene before him. His usual emotions and reactions were dampened and muted, as though watching through someone else. He studied his sister’s husband and saw him. Not a mercenary, not a man who had betrayed them, not a crude, lewd fighter, not a man-ape gone wrong. He saw a man who protected River, who cared for her (He could no longer deny that Jayne loved her - every gesture, every word, the very lines of his face, the planes of his body, shouted that to the world. How could he have missed seeing that before?), who accepted her, whose own happiness was so intertwined with hers that his smile was hers, and her laughter was his. He saw a man ”good enough for River”.
And River - she glowed. She blossomed under Jayne’s attentions, her natural beauty intensified, magnified. He had thought it a cliché that brides were radiant, but River was so bright, so shining, so beauteous he felt the urge to shield his eyes from the sight.
Simon shook his head slightly and the dizzy sensation faded. His normal perspective returned, like the end of an out-of-body experience. He was left with the realisation that, whilst he had not tried to thwart their marriage (after the initial shock), and whilst he may have paid for the wedding, he had still behaved with bad grace. It seemed like bad omen to be sulking in the background instead of rejoicing with his mei-mei.
Simon rose, slowly, and not so steadily, clutching the tumbler which still held a fifth of his precious whiskey. He weaved his way through the tables and the crowd, making sure to stop past Kaylee and giver her a soft kiss and a small smile. An apology might be needed for her tomorrow. He reached the front of the room, and, after a few aborted attempts, finally drew the attention of the happy crowd. The band of musicians faltered and the song came to a wheezing, haphazard halt.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, a toast!” Simon waved his tumbler above his head and members of the crowd sought for their own drinks in anticipation. “To my beautiful sister,” he smiled benevolently at River, “to her most worthy husband,” he nodded to Jayne, “and to their happiness. To River and Jayne!” He saluted the crowd with his glass, and smiled as they replied in unison.
He looked at the whiskey.
He drank the whiskey.
He passed out.
And the band played on.
FINIS