Languorous
I thought I could more or less cut and paste the intro from my last entry. So I did. Thanks to Daisy at BNF Management, this is your fic,and to Hez, my corporal, who kicked my butt until I finished. Apologies cause I know the handful of you are seeing this posted twice.
This takes place a few days after Out of Gas
He’d taken to walking the ship shortly after Simon had sprung him from the infirmary, looking to stretch some of the stiffness out of muscles unused to being confined for so long. Took proving he could climb in and out of his bunk on his own to get the doc and everyone else on the boat to quit shadowing him. Nearly toppled off the ladder on that little stunt. Still, it was better to push it then to have them all darting at him like he was gonna drop any moment. That just played hell with his reflexes. Made a man jittery.
Not that he weren’t grateful to each and everyone one of them, because he surely was. But one more a them puppy dog looks from Kaylee was gonna have even himself believing he weren’t fit for nothing but settin’with a shawl on his lap and a drool cup under his chin. So here he was, out of house arrest, promising the medic he'd check in regular. Not like there was anywhere he could go someone wouldn't hear the thud.
It annoyed him more than a little that climbing the stairs fatigued him, not that he’d admit that to the doc. Nor was he admitting that the wound site pained him just slightly more than he could ignore. But it weren’t unusual, he reasoned, if a captain wanted to stop for five minutes and look over his cargo hold from the vantage point of the catwalk. Or if that captain thought his view might be better from a seated position.
The scorched barrels and crates had been moved away from the airlock doors and stacked to the side. He didn’t think anyone had lost anything terribly important when he’d vented the fire, leastways he hadn’t heard any complaints. Yet. Now that he’d gotten himself up and out, they were bound to start.
Kaylee would have an upper hand asking him for new paraphernalia, and she’d use it. Hell, the whole crew would string him up, they got wind he was playing any kind of odds involved moving engine parts.
Wash might feel he could throw reminders anytime Mal wanted to fly under the radar.
Jayne, well Jayne would just bitch as usual, but Mal couldn’t risk the crew suddenly deciding to pay him some mind.
Zoe, she’d want to know more about the captain and crew of that xi niu ship Walden than Mal had told her.
He’d admit he spent a fair amount of time thinking on what he’d do to those wang ba dans he ever come across ‘em again. Gorram pirates, thinking they’d take his ship, shooting him like a dog without a second thought. Couldn’t help looking toward the grating where he’d lain after they left. Didn't see anything marked the spot. Mal closed his eyes against the memory, only to replay himself putting his hand down on the flooring, leaving a red print, forcing himself to his feet. He winced and put a hand to his bandaged midsection.
“Mal?”
Inara was standing not two feet from him.
“I have told you it ain’t wise to sneak up on a man like that.”
“If you can call repeating your name five times while walking straight toward you sneaking up, then I am a master.”
“Obviously I was deep in thought.”
“Obviously.” She settled down beside him, didn’t even ask, and got right to business. “Are you all right?”
“Shiny,” Mal answered quickly. This was exactly what he had to shake.
“Which would be why you’re sitting here holding your side?”
“What I’m holding and why is my own business.” Mal quickly moved the traitorous hand. “Doc said I was ok. Should be good enough for all of you.”
“Ah yes,” and there was that patronizing smile, “ I’d forgotten how you live by Simon’s opinion.”
“Yeah, well, this is his area of expertise, ain’t it?” If he could fend her off---
“He saved your life.”
Involuntarily, his glance returned to the spot on the cargo bay floor. Go se. He could feel her staring at him, waiting.
“I know.”
“Mal.”
Just get up. Walk away. Captainy things to do.
“We almost lost you.”
Go se.
He forced a laugh. “Almost lost all of us, Inara,” he said brightly. “Luck worked out we didn’t.”
“You don’t believe that. It wasn’t luck.”
“No?” He cocked his head at her. “Cause I’m feeling fairly lucky.”
“It was you. And Zoe. And Simon. It was what you all did---”
Well, then, how about fortuitous? You seemin’ to know my thoughts and all, I should clear my word choice with you?”
“Fortuitous,” she repeated, feigning surprise. “Why Mal, that’s right up there with ‘an easy, languorous journey’.”
“Languorous.” He stared at her.
“Yes Mal, you do recall the word? After all you used it---” she caught herself with a blush.
“You remember that? You remember what I said?”
She smoothed her skirt, lips pursed. “In light of what happened that day, Mal, yes, I remember. Trust me, it wasn’t your wit, it was the unintentional irony of the statement that made it remarkable.”
“That so?” he smirked.
“Yes, Mal. I trust you understand the irony? Your prediction of an uneventful, relaxed trip? Unimpeded by contact with any other ships?”
“You mean the easy, languorous journey.”
“Are you never going to let that go?”
“Well, after it made such an impression…”
“Maybe it was shock over your correct use of a word with more than two syllables that made it indelible,” she snapped.
“Mayhaps I should start using 10-credit words more often, give you more to think on. I’ll start studying. You like “serendipity ”? How do you use that one proper, I wonder.”
“Mal---”
I heared a fella use “sesquipedalian ” once. That sorta rolls off the tongue.”
“Mal---”
“How ‘bout “supercilious ”? That’s the kind of word your clients are used to hearin, ain’t it ‘Nara?
“Bu kan xiong!” She rose and, without another glance at him, stomped as noisily as was possible - for her - back along the catwalk toward her shuttle. “Wang en fu yi fei. I should never have said anything in the first place.”
He watched her retreating form, content to sit where he was a mite longer. Once she was out of view, he allowed a satisfied grin to spread over his face. Languorously.
“But you did, darlin’. You did.”
This takes place a few days after Out of Gas
He’d taken to walking the ship shortly after Simon had sprung him from the infirmary, looking to stretch some of the stiffness out of muscles unused to being confined for so long. Took proving he could climb in and out of his bunk on his own to get the doc and everyone else on the boat to quit shadowing him. Nearly toppled off the ladder on that little stunt. Still, it was better to push it then to have them all darting at him like he was gonna drop any moment. That just played hell with his reflexes. Made a man jittery.
Not that he weren’t grateful to each and everyone one of them, because he surely was. But one more a them puppy dog looks from Kaylee was gonna have even himself believing he weren’t fit for nothing but settin’with a shawl on his lap and a drool cup under his chin. So here he was, out of house arrest, promising the medic he'd check in regular. Not like there was anywhere he could go someone wouldn't hear the thud.
It annoyed him more than a little that climbing the stairs fatigued him, not that he’d admit that to the doc. Nor was he admitting that the wound site pained him just slightly more than he could ignore. But it weren’t unusual, he reasoned, if a captain wanted to stop for five minutes and look over his cargo hold from the vantage point of the catwalk. Or if that captain thought his view might be better from a seated position.
The scorched barrels and crates had been moved away from the airlock doors and stacked to the side. He didn’t think anyone had lost anything terribly important when he’d vented the fire, leastways he hadn’t heard any complaints. Yet. Now that he’d gotten himself up and out, they were bound to start.
Kaylee would have an upper hand asking him for new paraphernalia, and she’d use it. Hell, the whole crew would string him up, they got wind he was playing any kind of odds involved moving engine parts.
Wash might feel he could throw reminders anytime Mal wanted to fly under the radar.
Jayne, well Jayne would just bitch as usual, but Mal couldn’t risk the crew suddenly deciding to pay him some mind.
Zoe, she’d want to know more about the captain and crew of that xi niu ship Walden than Mal had told her.
He’d admit he spent a fair amount of time thinking on what he’d do to those wang ba dans he ever come across ‘em again. Gorram pirates, thinking they’d take his ship, shooting him like a dog without a second thought. Couldn’t help looking toward the grating where he’d lain after they left. Didn't see anything marked the spot. Mal closed his eyes against the memory, only to replay himself putting his hand down on the flooring, leaving a red print, forcing himself to his feet. He winced and put a hand to his bandaged midsection.
“Mal?”
Inara was standing not two feet from him.
“I have told you it ain’t wise to sneak up on a man like that.”
“If you can call repeating your name five times while walking straight toward you sneaking up, then I am a master.”
“Obviously I was deep in thought.”
“Obviously.” She settled down beside him, didn’t even ask, and got right to business. “Are you all right?”
“Shiny,” Mal answered quickly. This was exactly what he had to shake.
“Which would be why you’re sitting here holding your side?”
“What I’m holding and why is my own business.” Mal quickly moved the traitorous hand. “Doc said I was ok. Should be good enough for all of you.”
“Ah yes,” and there was that patronizing smile, “ I’d forgotten how you live by Simon’s opinion.”
“Yeah, well, this is his area of expertise, ain’t it?” If he could fend her off---
“He saved your life.”
Involuntarily, his glance returned to the spot on the cargo bay floor. Go se. He could feel her staring at him, waiting.
“I know.”
“Mal.”
Just get up. Walk away. Captainy things to do.
“We almost lost you.”
Go se.
He forced a laugh. “Almost lost all of us, Inara,” he said brightly. “Luck worked out we didn’t.”
“You don’t believe that. It wasn’t luck.”
“No?” He cocked his head at her. “Cause I’m feeling fairly lucky.”
“It was you. And Zoe. And Simon. It was what you all did---”
Well, then, how about fortuitous? You seemin’ to know my thoughts and all, I should clear my word choice with you?”
“Fortuitous,” she repeated, feigning surprise. “Why Mal, that’s right up there with ‘an easy, languorous journey’.”
“Languorous.” He stared at her.
“Yes Mal, you do recall the word? After all you used it---” she caught herself with a blush.
“You remember that? You remember what I said?”
She smoothed her skirt, lips pursed. “In light of what happened that day, Mal, yes, I remember. Trust me, it wasn’t your wit, it was the unintentional irony of the statement that made it remarkable.”
“That so?” he smirked.
“Yes, Mal. I trust you understand the irony? Your prediction of an uneventful, relaxed trip? Unimpeded by contact with any other ships?”
“You mean the easy, languorous journey.”
“Are you never going to let that go?”
“Well, after it made such an impression…”
“Maybe it was shock over your correct use of a word with more than two syllables that made it indelible,” she snapped.
“Mayhaps I should start using 10-credit words more often, give you more to think on. I’ll start studying. You like “serendipity ”? How do you use that one proper, I wonder.”
“Mal---”
I heared a fella use “sesquipedalian ” once. That sorta rolls off the tongue.”
“Mal---”
“How ‘bout “supercilious ”? That’s the kind of word your clients are used to hearin, ain’t it ‘Nara?
“Bu kan xiong!” She rose and, without another glance at him, stomped as noisily as was possible - for her - back along the catwalk toward her shuttle. “Wang en fu yi fei. I should never have said anything in the first place.”
He watched her retreating form, content to sit where he was a mite longer. Once she was out of view, he allowed a satisfied grin to spread over his face. Languorously.
“But you did, darlin’. You did.”