Archangel – Chapter Thirty-one Author owns no rights to Firefly, and no copyright infringement is intended. Fanfic only. -------------------- Serenity made her way through the black on a course for Londinium. The people from the training house, mostly Companions or Trainees, but also the staff of the residence, congregated in the cargo bay or the lounge, talking amongst themselves. Now that they weren’t in any danger, most of the younger women agreed it had all been very exciting. And who was that very large man with the swords. He had saved Mistress Sheydra’s life, and probably their’s as well. And wasn’t he handsome! Kaylee fumed, listening to the twittering Companions. Her foot was tapping on the floor at an ever increasing rate, and her face was turning redder by the minute as she listened to those. . .those. . .them, talking about her man. She looked up as the infirmary door opened, and Simon stood aside to let Jayne out. His left arm was in a sling, and his shoulder was heavily wrapped. As a result, Jayne was shirtless. And pantless she noticed, as he emerged in that damn loincloth he wore under that damn armor of his. She had really liked it when she was helping him get dressed. With all of them looking at him, now, she hated, hated, the damn thing. “I’m sure it’ll be healed by tomorrow,” Simon said drily, and Jayne grinned at him, tiredly. “Probably the day after,” he nodded. “I’ll see to you stuff, Jayne,” Zoe called from inside the infirmary. “Need to clean Vera for you anyway.” “Thanks, Zoe,” Jayne said over his shoulder. Then he stepped out into the lounge, and was instantly surrounded by a bevy of Companions. And Companion wanna-be’s. “Oh, Mister Cobb, are you all right?” “Mister Cobb, I wanted to thank you, so much, for saving us!” “What a magnificent sight it was!” “Oh, and that armor!” “Excuse me!” Every head turned to look at a now very irate engineer, standing in front of the couch, arms folded, and a stern look on her normally beautiful features. “He’s taken,” she informed the women, frowning. “Now all o’ you, git!” They got. Jayne chuckled as they left the lounge, and walked over to where Kaylee stood. Still rather put out. “Thanks, baby doll,” he said quietly, and started to kiss her. “Don’t you ‘baby doll’ me, Jayne Cobb!” Kaylee’s voice echoed across the room. Jayne winced. This was not looking good. “How dare you stand there and make eyes with them. . .hussies?” “Make eyes?” Jayne was confused now. “Baby, I wasn’t makin’ eyes at them. Hell, I was lookin’ at you.” Kaylee lost some of her frown at that, recalling that he had, indeed, been smiling at her, while the hussies were fawning over him. “Well,” she sniffed, “still. You ain’t got no business wearing that. . .that thing, out here in front of’em!” She pointed to the loincloth. “Uh, baby,” Jayne said haltingly. “I ain’t got anything else down here to wear. And I didn’t think you’d really appreciate me not wearin’ it, that bein’ the case.” More frown dissolved at that. “And what about you promisin’ me you wasn’t gonna be doin’ no more o’ that?” she demanded, trying to regain her lost momentum. She really wanted to be mad at him. “Kaylee, do you want to stay here?” Jayne asked softly. “On Serenity, I mean?” “What?” Kaylee was taken back by the question. “Course I do!” “Well, then,” Jayne shrugged. “There’s gonna be times I have to fight. It’s my job. Even if it ain’t reavers, Mal pays me for my gunhand. If’n we aim to stay here, then I got to do my job.” Kaylee looked at him, trying to see where there might be some wiggle room in that statement. Finding none, she sighed. “I know,” she relented finally. “But that don’t mean I got to like it!” she added. “I know,” he smiled. “How ‘bout helpin’ me down to my bunk?” he asked. “I’m wore out, woman.” Kaylee’s face wrinkled at that. “Oh, Jayne, I’m sorry!” she gushed, hand coming to her mouth. “I. . . .” “Hey, it’s okay,” he smiled. “I kinda liked the way you told them who. . .women off,” he corrected. “Made me feel good.” “It did?” she smiled a little. “It wasn’t ‘sposed to!” “Did anyway,” he told her. He straightened up a bit. “‘He’s taken’,” he mimicked her as best he could, and both laughed. “Well, you are,” she informed him. “And glad of it, too,” he bent to kiss her, and this time she let him. “C’mon, Poppa Bear,” she smiled at him. “Let Momma Bear take ya ta bed.” ------------------- “Mei mei, how is your leg?” Simon asked, walking up onto the bridge, bag in hand. “It’s shot, boob,” River told him. “But it is merely a graze. There is pain, and some bleeding, but both are manageable.” “Well, now that I’ve got Sir Jayne seen to,” Simon chuckled, “let me look at it.” River turned her seat, and rolled her pants leg up so that her brother could dress her wound. He worked quickly, but confidently. “You’re right, it’s just a graze,” Simon assured her when he was finished. “I cleaned it good, and bandaged it. I want you taking anti-biotics for three days, though,” he told her. “Just in case.” “Very well,” River nodded, turning back to the helm. “Thank you, ge ge.” “You’re welcome,” he smiled, closing his bag. “Now that I’ve seen to our two warriors, I guess I should see if any of the passengers are injured.” “Right,” River rolled her eyes at that. “Just so happens that all of our passengers, or at least the majority of them, are beautiful Companions, or Companion trainees.” “It’s a tough job,” Simon sighed theatrically. “But someone has to do it.” River giggled. “Better not let Jazz see you getting overly friendly with them,” she smirked. “Might stab you with her pen.” “She’s something, isn’t she?” Simon mused, looking out the screen at the stars. “Yes, she is,” River smiled. “And much prettier, and smarter, than she lets on.” “I thought that myself,” Simon agreed. “Well, I really do need to see if anyone else is injured. If your leg gets to bothering you, call me. And take this,” he gave her a pill. “It’s just something to keep the edge off the pain,” he promised at her wry look. “All right,” she took the tablet, and swallowed it. “See you in a bit,” he told her, and walked back down the passage way. ------------------------- “Where are you headed, Doctor?” Jazz asked, meeting Simon in the galley. “I wanted to make sure no one in the cargo bay was injured,” Simon smiled at her. “But I had to make sure of Jayne and River first.” “So you’re going down there with all those Companions?” she asked, eyebrow raised. “Well, I know it’s dangerous,” he said seriously. “But I’m a doctor, and I’ve got to treat sick and injured people, no matter the risk.” “Alone?” Jazz asked, a smile hinting at her lips. Simon noted how full her lips were. “Well, if I had someone willing to escort me, I’d take them, of course,” Simon told her officiously. “Of course, it would have to be voluntary,” he added. “Can’t make someone take on such a rough assignment.” “Oh, shut up, Simon,” Jazz giggled, finally losing her stoicism. “I always wanted to play a nurse.” -------------- Sheydra, Inara and Mal were in Inara’s shuttle, talking about the events of the day. “I would not have believed, had I not seen it with my own eyes,” Sheydra admitted. “Had I not seen them, I would have assumed it was the ‘revolutionaries’ that the Parliament has been harping on.” She looked up sharply at the other two. “But that isn’t the case, is it?” “No,” Inara sighed. “No, it isn’t. And it’s worse than it looks,” she added, glancing at Mal. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “Sheydra, reavers have been around for some time. At least the last fifteen or sixteen years, we believe. And they’re getting worse.” “Only, now, it seems,” Inara continued, “someone is able to at least direct their movements, if not control them outright.” “What?” Sheydra was stunned. “We don’t know who it is,” Inara shook her head. “Or even what they hope to gain. But the little evidence we’ve been able to find so far points in that direction.” “Why are you mixed up in this to start with?” Sheydra asked. “Surely this is a matter for the authorities.” “And you may have noted that they ain’t seein’ to it,” Mal pointed out. “It ain’t just your little piece o’ heaven that’s gettin’ hit, Sheydra. Reavers are hittin’ rim moons and worlds at a rate of three or four to one compared to the Core. And some places, they ain’t leavin’ a soul alive.” Sheydra muttered a prayerful incantation under her breath. “That’s why we’re ‘involved’, as you put it,” Inara told her gently. “The Alliance isn’t doing anything to stop this, pretending it isn’t even happening to be honest. And while they try to hide the fact, people are dying by the thousands.” “I can’t believe that the Alliance is just. . .sitting there!” Sheydra erupted. “It’s their fault the reavers exist in the first place,” Mal told her. “If they admit they exist, even while they’re tearin’ the worlds out from under them, then they gotta own up to what they done. Ain’t likely.” “What do you mean, their fault they exist?” Sheydra’s eyes narrowed. “I have something I want to show you,” Inara told her gently, leading her to the screen in the shuttle cockpit. “It’s. . .well, it’s disturbing.” Mal rose silently and eased out of the shuttle. He didn’t need to see the WAVE again. He saw it every night in his dreams. -------------- “Merciful Bhudda,” Sheydra breathed, as the Miranda WAVE finally, mercifully, ended. She looked up at Inara. “This is why you quit the Guild, isn’t it?” Inara looked at her for a moment, and then nodded. Slightly. “One of them,” she admitted. “I. . .I couldn’t. . . .” “No, I suppose not,” Sheydra nodded in reply. “This isn’t about me, Sheydra,” Inara forced the conversation back on topic. “I guess it’s not really about anything, to be honest. But you deserved to know.” “Thank you,” Sheydra told her, sincerely. “There has to be something that can be done. This can’t be allowed to go on. They will eventually kill us all.” “I fear you’re correct,” Inara replied. “But I don’t know what anyone can do. It will take the military to put an end to the reavers. And the Alliance has the only military left in the ‘verse. And apparently they’re using it to keep the events as quiet as possible, rather than combat the menace.” “Let me think on it,” Sheydra told her. “There has to be someone we can talk to about this.” “Be careful, Sheydra,” Inara warned her friend. “These people will stop at nothing to protect themselves. Murder is a tool to them, and it doesn’t matter who they kill.” “Well, I happen to have some ‘tools’ of my own, dear,” Sheydra smiled. “We’ll just see what we see.” ---------------------- “Well, everyone seems to be okay,” Simon sighed gratefully. “For which I am glad,” he added. “I do more work on this ship than I did in the hospital,” he laughed. “And such good work it is, Doctor,” Jazz replied wryly. She watched as Simon rolled his head slightly, working to dislodge a kink in his neck. She frowned. “Come on, Doctor,” she took his hand, leading him away. “Looks like you need some doctoring yourself.” “What? No, I’m fine. Just a little sore and stiff, that’s all.” “Don’t argue with me,” Jazz told him. She led him to the infirmary, and forced him to sit. She moved behind him, and began massaging his shoulders, working slowly up to his neck. “Ohhh,” Simon moaned, as her hands worked on his tensed muscles. “You have no idea. . . .” “Oh, but I do,” Jazz assured him. “There is nothing to compare to a good masseuse.” “Truer words were never spoken,” Simon murmured, eyes shut as he reveled in the feeling of her strong hands working his muscles. “Of course,” Jazz said huskily into his ear, “there are all kinds of massages.” Simon’s eyes opened abruptly at that. ------------------ “I’m sorry, Jayne,” Kaylee murmured against his chest. “‘bout earlier, I mean,” she added. “I shouldn’a been so mad.” “Don’t worry on it,” he told her, kissing the top of her head. They were lying in the bunk, with Kaylee curled under his good arm. She held onto him as if afraid he’d slip away if she didn’t. “I just. . .I get scared, that’s all,” she continued. “I don’t want nothin’ to happen to ya, ai ren.” “Well, I don’t want nothin’ to happen to me, neither,” he smiled. “‘Specially not now,” he added, kissing her again. She looked up at him and smiled. “Why not now?” she asked, teasing. “Well, we got a whole boat load o’ companions, and, offfff!” he cut off as Kaylee punched him lightly in the stomach. “I catch you lookin’ at one o’ them painted harpies, mister, and you ain’t gonna need that loin thingy no more, dong ma?” Kaylee warned, and he chuckled. “I do,” he nodded. “You know why, now. I love you, Kaylee. More’n anything or anyone, anywhere. I don’t want nothin’ to happen to me, or you. I want us to get old together. And when the time comes, want us laying next ta each other when they lower us into the ground.” Kaylee’s eyes widened slightly at that. So much had happened over the last few weeks that it was difficult to remember that her and Jayne hadn’t always been together. Now. . . . “What are you sayin’, Jayne?” she asked quietly, her eyes boring directly into his. “I’m saying I don’t ever want to be apart from you, Kaylee,” he told her, as serious as he could be. “Not ever. Not for any reason.” “Jayne, are you askin’ me ta marry ya?” Kaylee asked, wide eyed. He frowned. “Well, not if that’s how you’re gonna react, I ain’t,” he replied carefully. “I. . . .” His reply was cut off as Kaylee’s lips descended on his in a fiery, passionate kiss that last so long, he was wondering if he’d black out. “Yes,” she said, when she finally released his lips from her own. “Yes.” “Yeah?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “I mean, if ya was to git ‘round ta askin’ me,” she blushed a little, but held his eyes with her own. “Well, then,” Jayne smiled. “Well, what?” Kaylee asked. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as seriously as he could. She punched him again. “Why are you beatin’ on me?” he complained. “Didn’t you just say you’d marry me?” “Gotta make sure you know who’s in charge,” she murmured, lowering her lips to his again. “Can’t let you get outta hand.” ---------------- River sat in on the bridge, eyeing the ship’s position. Her study was interrupted by the cortex alarm, signifying an incoming message. She rose from her seat and walked to the screen, hitting the receive switch. “Hello, Miss Tam,” the Operative smiled. “How are you?” For a moment, River was seized with fear. Fighting it down, she nodded. “Until I saw your face, I was doing quite well,” she said evenly. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t ask how you are, as I do not care to know.” “I suppose you do not,” he nodded. “That’s understandable. I would like a word with your Captain, please. If possible.” Mal picked that moment to walk onto the bridge. “What’s wrong, ‘Tross?” he asked, then saw who was on the screen. “Your timing is impeccable, Captain,” River said quietly, and moved away from the screen. Mal looked down at the Operative. “And what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked. “I wanted to apologize, firstly,” the Gerald Book told him. “I advised General Reynolds that his idea was a poor one, but he would not listen. I should not have went along, but. . .he is in charge.” “I bet he is,” Mal’s sarcasm was almost visible. “He is,” Gerald insisted. “And that includes myself, when I am with him. Though that is not so often, these days. If you would listen, Malcolm, I would like to tell you what General Reynolds wanted me too in his office. If you do not, then I will not bother you again.” “I think I know pretty much what’s goin’ on,” Mal told him. “But you know what? I got some time, so feel free to enlighten me.” He sat down, his hand moving over the ‘record’ button as he did so. “There is a great deal going on behind the scenes, Captain,” he began. “And not all of it is visible, or known, as yet. I am not convinced that Blue Sun is behind this elevation in the reaver attacks, despite evidence that points to them rather nicely. Too nicely, I believe.” “As yet, however,” the Operative continued, “I have no idea who else would be doing this, or why. I have uncovered some evidence that the attacks are not merely random in nature, however.” “Every attack, so far, has been a carefully calculated strike, I believe. On every industrialized world, certain facilities have been sacked, and a great deal of inventory taken. Were you aware that Hera had a facility which packaged military rations for the Alliance?” “Can’t say I was,” Mal replied. “The entire inventory was looted,” the Operative informed him. “As was a munitions facility on Beaumonde, and a contractor who produces military equipment on Aberdeen.” “Sounds like someone is building up an army,” Mal said. “Wonder who that is?” he asked, smirking slightly. “I can see where you might think that,” Gerald Book nodded. “But consider this: had we access to those items, would we have needed you to bring badly needed supplies to us on Idlewild?” “‘Spose not,” Mal conceded carefully. “We have to find out who is doing this,” the other man said earnestly. “Until we do, there is no way to ascertain what their plans are, or what their goal is. Nor can we make a plan to stop them.” “I thought that wasn’t the plan, anyway,” Mal shot back. “Thought you was takin’ on the Alliance, while they was distracted by the reavers.” “That is General Reynolds’ plan, yes,” Gerald conceded. “And I agree that if he intends to strike, now is the time. But you and I both know that such a war would simply make it easier for the reavers to wreak havoc in the ‘verse. With the two sides fighting each other, who will fight the reaves?” “Point,” Mal conceded. “I ain’t interested in fightin’ a war, Gerry,” Mal told the Operative. “And I don’t aim to. Me and mine, we been hurt enough.” “And I am primarily responsible for that,” the other admitted. “I cannot undo it, Captain. And I won’t say I’m sorry. It’s worse than useless.” “That’s true.” “I have shared what I know with you,” Gerald sighed. “If you discover anything you think is important, I would appreciate your sharing it with me.” “I’ll think on it,” Mal promised. “But if we do find somethin’, it’ll be accidental like. We ain’t aimin’ to get involved in all this.” “I’m sure that your recent mission to Sihnon was a one time slip up,” Gerald managed not to smirk as he spoke. Mal hid his surprise, he thought. “Don’t be surprised, Malcolm,” Gerald smiled. “I told you, I am not without resources. I assume you were able to recover Miss Serra’s friends, and former students?” “Like I said, if we learn anything worthwhile, I’ll see about gettin’ it to you,” Mal ignored the question. “But we ain’t gonna go lookin’ for it, mind.” “I understand, Captain.” Mal switched off the feed, then stopped the recorder. He looked over at River, who was staring out into space. “He is not lying,” River said tonelessly. “He. . .he believes. If there is treachery, he is unaware of it. There is something he is hiding, though,” she looked at Mal. “Any idea what?” “None,” River said flatly. “But he is.”

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