(no subject)
Mal was goin' t' be a father.
Oh, he trusted Chase jus' fine, which meant that, like it 'r not, what the doc said was true: River was goin' t' have a baby.
There were goin' t' be tiny combat boots pitterin' n' patterin' 'bout on Serenity sooner'n Mal'd e'er be ready for. But, he reckoned he ought t' at least be grateful for gettin' a few months t' grow a mite 'ccustomed t' the notion.
Not that he thought he would. E'er.
Most days he couldn't believe he n' River had e'er gotten hitched. 't weren't that he regretted it none 'cause 'twas River, but Mal had 'lways felt he'd make someone a gorram awful husband. In truth, 'twas a surprise River hadn't kicked him out o' his own bunk yet; weren't like he hadn't done plenty o' stupid thin's that'd merit a kickin'.
n' now they'd gone n' got 'emselves all future-parentfied. Parentin' weren't nothin' like capt'nin'. 'r mayhap 'twas too close t' bein' that n' Mal was 'fraid that he weren't a good 'nough capt'n; he hadn't managed t' get him n' his crew off o' the island, now had he?
His mouth twisted up in a sort o scowl n' he glinted 'gainst the sun bearin' down on him. Gruntin' some, Mal scooted o'er the sand, pressin' his back 'gainst the other side o' the palm tree he'd been leanin' 'gainst for the better part o' a half hour. In his hands was a piece o' wood n' a small knife. He was whittlin' somethin', 'ccasionally lookin' out t' the sea.
Oh, he trusted Chase jus' fine, which meant that, like it 'r not, what the doc said was true: River was goin' t' have a baby.
There were goin' t' be tiny combat boots pitterin' n' patterin' 'bout on Serenity sooner'n Mal'd e'er be ready for. But, he reckoned he ought t' at least be grateful for gettin' a few months t' grow a mite 'ccustomed t' the notion.
Not that he thought he would. E'er.
Most days he couldn't believe he n' River had e'er gotten hitched. 't weren't that he regretted it none 'cause 'twas River, but Mal had 'lways felt he'd make someone a gorram awful husband. In truth, 'twas a surprise River hadn't kicked him out o' his own bunk yet; weren't like he hadn't done plenty o' stupid thin's that'd merit a kickin'.
n' now they'd gone n' got 'emselves all future-parentfied. Parentin' weren't nothin' like capt'nin'. 'r mayhap 'twas too close t' bein' that n' Mal was 'fraid that he weren't a good 'nough capt'n; he hadn't managed t' get him n' his crew off o' the island, now had he?
His mouth twisted up in a sort o scowl n' he glinted 'gainst the sun bearin' down on him. Gruntin' some, Mal scooted o'er the sand, pressin' his back 'gainst the other side o' the palm tree he'd been leanin' 'gainst for the better part o' a half hour. In his hands was a piece o' wood n' a small knife. He was whittlin' somethin', 'ccasionally lookin' out t' the sea.