badinlatin | Beaumonde, Maidenhead Bar.

Beaumonde. Home to...well, pretty much everything, in very large amounts, all mixed together like so much debris from a storm of neon lights and rice cake vendors.

Mal'd never admit it to anyone that didn't know him, but he really does like coming to The Maidenhead. Except for the fact that the management makes Mal and his crew lock up their weapons with these go se key cards before walking down the center staircase. Simon and Kaylee first down the stairs, as they had no guns to stow, then Wash and Zoe are hand in hand while Mal and Jayne keep an eye out for the latest contacts for the last bit of business for the Lilac job.

Mal casts an eye to Wash and Zoe, who had been also scoping the bar for anyone seeming familiar, but Mal waves a hand in dismissal.

"Sir," Zoe offers in response to this, "You sure you don't want to---?"

"Go," is the more assertive cutoff. "Go get yourselves a nice romantic meal." Apparently this is more than enough motivation for Wash, who leads Zoe away from Mal and Jayne.

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Jayne's up instantly, firstly, well, because, tussle. Secondly, he got his marching orders. And as much as he and Mal got their differences, marching orders are marching orders.

Duck--

Dang, she's fast.

Shift your weight, good thing eats've been slow comin' lately what with the lack of employment; that extra ten pounds would've meant a broke brainpan right about now--

River bends impossibly, leg high, head low, and the last man between them falls, and Jayne catches her--

"Gorram it, girl, it's me."

Arms around her, too strong to pull free -- her arm slashes down, edge of the hand connecting in a solid knife-edge strike to the groin. The man's
(to and fro we leap)
(it's me)
(and chase the frothy bubbles)
arms loosen (the faint faraway sound of a whimper in her ear) but it's not quite enough --
(while the world is full of troubles)
She twists in his hold,
(and anxious in its sleep)
(gorram it, girl)

elbow flying up, it's all leverage, it's all mathematics, a hard strike here and a kick there and he's down and there's the solid weight of a gun in her hand and
(with a faery)
(it's me)
(hand in hand)
and River...
(come)
(it's ME)
(come)
River...
(COME)
(it's ME)

falters.

Finds herself staring down at... Jayne.

Jayne is on the floor, clutching his man-parts in one hand and covering his head with another.

When he doesn't die, he peeks an eye through his fingers.

Mal, with a great and powerful will, climbs the stairs as fast as possible, spinning the gun check and fishing out the key card for it.

Mal doesn't want to shoot her, but he would if he had to.

You're a part o' my crew.

River stares down at Jayne.

Her head snaps up, to focus on Mal, as the gun check box rattles open.

Bewildered.

The gun is still in her hand, held loosely and half-forgotten.

She's surrounded by bodies. On the floor, draped over the bar, under tables, slumped on the stairs. Some of them are groaning and beginning to stir.

Some of them aren't.

Mal has his gun back. He doesn't hesitate to scope the bar for River, before she kills anyone else.

Bullet in the brainpan squish

Bwah.

River's gun is pointed... down. She doesn't seem to be aware of it.

She stares at Mal. She's not afraid, or at least not of him.

She's starting to shake.

Jayne ain't afraid of nothin'. Nohow.

'Cept the gun that is currently pointed in the general direction of his kneecap.

He essays a gentle tone. Don't really work much.

"H-hey. You mind givin' me that gorram boom-stick you got, River?"

River's lowering her gun, so Mal lowers his, holsters it, and races to where River has a gun accidentally? pointed at Jayne.

Mal stops about a yard and a half ahead of River and holds out his hand expectantly, with just a dash of hope.

Shaking harder, now.

"Mal...?"

A glance at Jayne, halfway between confused and horrified, and then back at Mal.

Her fingers have loosened on the gun, and the barrel drifts, the target moving from Jayne's kneecap to his shin.

Very carefully, Jayne sidles away from the gun.

Now it's pointing at his toes.

"Just give the Cap'n the gun, girlie."

Just one...more...second.

Mal leans forward quickly and takes the gun from River's hand, easing the safety back on and tucking it with one hand at the small of his back.

He doesn't attempt to touch River, to guide her away, but he is standing closer to her at the moment.

"Mal?"

She barely notices the gun being wrenched from her grasp.

"Mal, I didn't--"

A swift glance at Jayne, and back. Tears are standing in her eyes.

"They changed, the faces weren't mine -- oh God, I can hear them --"

"Shhh," Mal offers quietly, quickly. They really did need to leave.

An arm around the shoulder, strong and guiding. "We gotta go, lil' one."

Some of the ones that were moving have progressed to the attempts of getting off the floor.

"What, no hand up for the injured?" Jayne snorts and stumbles to his feet.

"If I can't get my johnson workin' right after this, Stabby, I'm comin' after you."

River's eyes are closed. A tear leaks out, then another. She's trembling.

She doesn't give any sign that she's heard Jayne.

A stumbling step, and another; on the third, she nearly trips over a sprawled body. All her usual grace is gone.

Her lips shape an occasional word, but nothing is audible.

A sigh escapes him, and with a soft whoosh Mal picks up River in one sweep.

...You find someone to carry you.

Mal starts up the stairs with Jayne alongside and River in his arms, making good time before any outside security patrols venture inside.

Mingo and Fanty are scuttling away.

". . . n't know."

"Just get the fuck out of here. Tamade. Mucked it up all; she's crazy truly."

"Well." Smug again. "Good to know at least I's got a more aesthetically pleasing mug than you have."

"Fanty."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Beaumonde, Maidenhead Bar.

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