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BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL
A storm is brewing, and Mal knows how it will end, even if he refuses to acknowledge it. :: Spoilers for Out of Gas.
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 1249 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
Mal never liked sitting in the pilot’s chair. It was Wash’s chair. It was comfortable. Had all them levers that moved it about. Leaned back some. Serenity was his ship, but that chair was Wash’s. So up on the bridge, he stood. He stood with his arms crossed high up on his chest. There was a storm coming in. Mal stared out into the black. He could feel it in his bones. Every time he went out into it, he could feel it rattling him. Leaving atmo wasn’t so bad. He could concentrate on the pressure, the force of breaking free. But out there in it, with just one of them little suits or a pane of glass separating him from it, he could feel it. It was cold. It was cruel. It was uncompromising. He had called Serenity freedom when he had brought Zoe onto it that first time. Serenity hadn’t brought Mal freedom so much as she had brought him the black. Brought him to himself. Mal shifted and rested his hands on his belt buckle. Wash had changed their course to Deadwood. He had said there was some unpleasantries brewing by one of the star systems they were to pass through. Serious solar flare activity. Even though they wouldn’t have passed by the star face on, the radiation would have mucked up the nav. Could have even knocked out power. Could have left them stranded. No one mentioned the disaster of Greenleaf. They avoided the storm, but there were others brewing. “You know. It’s going to end, and you know how. You won’t tell any of us, but you know.” Mal’s toes were curled tightly in his boots. He had forced himself not to spin around, but he couldn’t keep his hand from zipping to his pistol. He could have kept from cocking it, but he was no good man. The sound made him comfortable; it let his body relax. “Don’t know nothin’.” He continued to stare out into the black. He ignored its pressure and stared it in the face. This was his ship, his world, his corner of nowhere. Storm or no storm. Nothing was gonna change that. “An’ stop crawlin’ all over that seat. No need for you to be up here anyways. You ought be in your bed or else your brother will begin birthin’ kittens.” “To birth. Chiefly dialect. To bring forth. To give rise to. Originate. Simon never brings forth. He doesn’t originate. You –” “River, go to bed.” Mal snapped and turned to the girl. He couldn’t listen to her banter. He never understood her, but when he did it rattled him to the bone. “Decent folk aught be in bed. Now get.” “You aren’t in bed.” She slid from the seat and ghosted to the door. Her feet always touched the ground. Mal knew it; he could see it, but she never ceased to look like she were floating. “Never said I was decent folk.” River mumbled the words as Mal spoke them. Her perfect synchronicity sent shivers down to his tailbone. River’s hand caressed the curve of the door as she drifted like smoke off of the bridge. She turned and stared at Mal. “There’s a storm.” Her expression was flat, and her eyes were glazed. She turned gingerly and glided away. Mal shut his eyes and attempted to loosen his jaw. His hand was still on his gun.
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Monday, July 31, 2006 5:15 PM
PRICEMERC
Monday, July 31, 2006 5:53 PM
AGENTRUSCO
Monday, July 31, 2006 11:26 PM
AMDOBELL
Wednesday, August 2, 2006 7:33 PM
BLUEEYEDBRIGADIER
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