badinlatin | Mal dreams...

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Mal dreams...

Mal's right hand is still shaking. Shaking of death and Reavers and surrender and maybe he really was a kĕwù de lăo bàojūn for bringing them all out here.

He just couldn't break in front of them. Never. Not about death. This was the part they knew him for; "Mal's been through the war; he can do this part, no problem." Inara was something different; Kaylee knew about that, if not everyone else. But Death - He knows Death, and Death knows him. Can't fear it.

Mal goes back to his bunk, quicker than anyone else at the site of the beacon. His world doesn't start literally spinning until he climbs down the hatch and lies down on his bed to calm himself. He doesn't notice himself putting his holster on his chair. He does notice the fact that he has no more of Simon's soothers.

God, was Mal nervous. Lilly. Date. I’m gonna screw something up, please God don’t let me say something stupid.

A quick rap at the wooden plank door reveals a stern older gentleman in a black business suit. Why does he always have to look like he’s going to a funeral?

"Mr. Reynolds," the butler answered the door with a crisp nod of the head. "Miss Lilly is in the parlor awaiting your arrival."

"Xiexi--" Mal corrects himself quickly. "Thank you sir." He'll never figure out what it is with the highbrow folk around here and their distaste for Mandarin. It's more fun than English, to Mal's ears. With a quick straightening of his dress jacket his mother had insisted upon, Mal turns into the parlor.

"Lilly. Wow." To Hell with manners.

Lilly, petite brunette curls resting on top of her shoulders, shifted in her dress, blushing thoroughly under Mal's gaze.

"You look beautiful, baobei," Mal slips into Chinese, "Never seen you in a dress before." Mal does not add that this is because they are normally wrestling or gallavanting on his mother's ranch within earshot of the butler, but the continuous flush of Lilly's cheeks shows him she knows what he's talking about.

Turning to the butler as Mal clutches Lilly's hand, Mal exclaims, "I'll have 'er back, usual time, sir!"

Mal and Lilly changed out of their clothes quickly, into something far more appropriate for the town fair. Just two average eighteen year olds out for a stroll, enjoying life.

The shooter games were what attracted to Lilly first. Because she could make Mal win them. "C'mon, Malcolm, you know you wanna try!" she'd jibed. "You ain't gonna learn nothin' if you don't see it through experience first!" Mal didn't need experience with these games; most of the barkers saw him coming and preemptively gave him a prize for the lady if he tried to play at their table. He was Bad For Business.

Handing a yellow stuffed cat to Lilly with a smile, Mal continued to walk around the annual carnival with a grin.

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"Malcolm," Lilly wheedles, pulling on Mal's hand playfully, "I want to go see Lady Claira. She promised to read my palm, last time I ran into her at fair."

Lilly looks up at Mal, leaning on his arm with a grin of 'You know I'm gonna win; don't even try otherwise.'

It suddenly seems to Mal that this look has worked on him all his life. Doesn't mean he won't complain, though.

"Lady Claira? That old dingbat wouldn't know the future if hit 'er in the nose."

Mal looks down his arm to Lilly, toothy teenager grin on his face. Yep. That look does the trick.

"Fine," Mal returns, still smiling, "Let's go."

As they walk from the alley, cross the street, and step through the door of the small shop, they're watched.

Everything is shadow, here.

Mal Reynolds and --

-- well, if it ain't that pretty little daughter of the mayor's.

Lilly is loving every second of this. Mal by her side, nothing can go wrong.

She doesn't even notice Mal tense slightly as she's walking over to introduce herself again to Lady Claira, dropping his arm.

Mal, on the other hand, has become very nervous. He's gotten into enough fights already to know when someone's keeping a very close eye on he and his.

"Lilly," Mal says to her in as strong a voice as he can manage, hiding all but the most simple edge of fear in his voice, "I think we should go---"

But as soon as Mal has her -- thinks she's safe -- away from the psychic and just beyond the light thrown from the hurricane lamp on her table, there comes the scuffling of footsteps, and she's wrenched away.

And before Mal even has time to blink, he's pinned, arms stronger than they look holding him back while Lilly struggles against her captor.

"Hey, Mal."

An ingratiating grin.

Mal tries to break free, snarled curses in Mandarin halfway out of his mouth as he stretches toward Lilly.

The cool sting of a knife on his jugular puts a stop to all of that pretty fast.

"Uh-uh," Wash hisses in his ear, his other arm hooked tightly around both of Mal's. "I don't think so, Malcolm."

Mal can't breathe. Lilly just stares at him with wide-eyed shock and despair at seeing her one shot at hope for survival with a knife at his throat.

Mal's not doing so well against the shock and fear himself. Part of his brain is trying to figure out where he knows these two from, 'cause somewhere he does, but the overriding emotion is Fight or Flight.

God, does he ever want to flee...

"Please," Mal begs of the two, Wash? Tracey? Who?"Just let her go, please..."

Lilly's been looking for Mal in the Dreaming. She hasn't seen him in Bar, hasn't seen any of them really, and it's starting to worry her.

The dream he's in when she finally finds him doesn't help the worrying any.

"... Mal? Holy shit, what's going on here?"

Lilly Kane Lilly Jackson bar rogue captain kill dream

"Run!" Mal struggles against Wash his assailant, "They'll kill you too!

"Please...run away..."

If Mal has ever sounded like Lilly Kane's age to her, now would be that time.

And sometimes, Death goes walking along the edges of her brother's realm. Not often, but sometimes.

Those that are hers call out to her.
While Mal is nowhere near as wholly hers as, say, Roland, he still is in Her service. He is a soldier, after all.

She is more real than anything else in the world.

"...Mal?"

Her voice is soft, and welcoming.

Lilly's standing and staring until the desperation in Mal's voice hits her. He doesn't sound like a mean old man or a rogue spaceship captain. He sounds... young, and scared.

"I'm not running," she says firmly. "They can't hurt me, mu ji, and they can't hurt you either. This is just a dream."

Well. More or less.

mu ji wooden chicken what up sai

"...Lilly?" Mal still struggles against Wash It's Wash but it's not but he can't break free.

"Lilly, they...they kill her. They Make Me Watch." Mal stares at Tracey Oh God it is Tracey holding Lilly, one whim away from breaking her neck.

Mal's face crumples as he slumps against the arms that restrain him. "...I couldn't stop it."

Lilly is very, very pale. More death.

"Mu ji, look at me. You don't have to watch, okay? Not this time. Just look at me and tell me what's going on... please?"

In the way of dreams, the knife vanishes, with no acknowledgement that it was ever there.

Wash clamps his hand around Mal's chin and violently yanks him upright, nails digging into his throat.

"Show must go on, Malcolm," he murmurs. A few drops of blood bead around his fingers. "Watch."

Mal feels the pain of Wash's hands around his neck, and wants to scream. He doesn't, and has no clue why.

...That's wrong. By the look on Lilly Kane's face, Mal is screaming. Very loudly.

"I can't...fight them, Lilly!" Mal yells at the blonde, once Wash's grip lessens enough for speech. "Never could..."

Mal can't move his head enough to not watch Lilly Jackson stare up at Tracey in fear, Tracey visibly moving to copy Wash's attack.

"Yes, you can," Lilly replies, low and insistent. He's caught in dream-terror, she has to snap him out of it somehow.

"You don't have to just lie down for them, Mal, you can fight. Look!"

She takes a step forward, grabbing Tracey's arm and wrenching it away from the other Lilly's throat.

"You can fight."

Mal can fight. He's been fighting all his life. Seeing Lilly Lilly Kane the bar space captain gorramit yank Tracey's arm like it was made out of nothing at all just seals it.

Mal peels Wash's fingers off his neck, slowly, ignoring the blood that continues to ooze from the half-moon indentations as he does so. With his arm to the side, Mal elbows Wash in the nose and sprints to Lilly Jackson, pulling her away from Tracey.

I've got her its different now I'm free

"Mal, what's...what's going on?" an all-too familiar voice calls to him.

Inara.

Inara appears to Mal to be as beautiful as the first day he met her. All in satin and lace and the pretty stuff he'll never be able to provide for her.

Simply standing there, in front of Lady Claira's stand, Inara looks at Mal and the mayor's daughter blankly.

Mal doesn't have time to grab Inara's arm too before Wash grabs Inara around the waist, all the while kicking Mal in the stomach to keep him away.

Tracey has regains his hold on Lilly Jackson.

Indeed he has. Tracey's hand clenches around Lilly's throat, his fingers digging into her pale skin. Her eyes widen in terror, and she strains against his other arm, vice-like around her waist.

Tracey smirks.

"Well, well, well. Ain't this a laugh, Mal?"

Lilly's eyes narrow, and she kicks out hard, hitting Tracey squarely in the groin.

"Hang on, mu ji, I'm going to get help," she tells him, spinning around to leave the dream.

Someone from the crew has to be dreaming right now, if Mal's asleep, and she'll be damned if she can't find one of them.

Tracey flinches, but maintains his hold on the mayor's daughter. He grins again, a slow, wolfish grin,

"You can't protect her. Lilly is going away now, Malcolm, and you can't do a damned thing about it. What do you think of that?"

His eyes dart after Lilly Kane, but his hand tightens around the throat of Lilly Jackson.

Lillys, Lillys everywhere, and not a drop to drink.

Lilly Kane is gone.

Wash with Inara, Tracey with Lilly.
Past and present.
Gotta choose can't choose have to

Wash - Inara - Tracey - Lilly.

Everything disappears for Mal except for those four faces; people he's loved and does love, people he's lost and is losing. People - He will always love and always lose.

Mal moves to take one step

...He wakes up, vision blurred and painful and he fell asleep in his clothes réncí de Fózŭ, Miranda.

Pulse still racing, Mal can't see straight, think straight.

He does focus.

The image of his gun in his holster floats in front of him.

shoot with my mind...kill with my heart...

Inara turns restlessly in her sleep, the sheets in her shuttle still feeling slightly wrong after her absence. Images float past her eyes, scenes from the Training House, Sheydra's face, then a burning temple. Mal is there, holding her close, lowering his face to hers when suddenly a familiar-looking blond woman is there beside her.

"Inara? It's Lilly, from the bar. You've got to wake up right now and go to Mal."

Inara looks at her, confused. "What? What are you doing...am I awake?"

Lilly grabs her arm, focusing Inara on her. "I don't have time to explain it all, but you are asleep right now. You have to wake up and go help Mal. He needs you right now. Now go!"

As Lilly yells this, Inara sits bolt upright in bed, fully awake. She sits for a moment, trying to absorb what has just happened, then pushes herself out of bed, grabs her robe and heads for Mal's bunk at a flat run. She pushes the hatch and begins to climb down the stairs, headless of the noise she is making.

Noises lăotiān, bù go away

Mal pulls his gun out of the holster, shaking all the while, and pulls himself upright, sitting on his bunk while training the gun at the hatch.

Whatever comes down into his bunk, he'll be ready.

He pulls the hammer of his revolver back almost without thinking.

Inara is climbing down the ladder as fast as she can, not bothering to look around.

"Mal? Mal, are you alright?"

Oh God It's Inara No Go Away

Mal's hand wavers even more, but it's no longer pointing to Inara.

Mal moves the barrel of his gun to his own temple.

"Please, 'Nara...go 'way...I can't choose."

Inara's hands go numb on the bars of the ladder as she sees the gun, then sees it swing from her to Mal's head.

oh no no no

She stumbles as she jumps from the ladder, catching herself on a nearby stool. She slowly stands up and starts to move towards Mal.

"I'm not leaving, Mal. I can't. Not until you put the gun down."

Completely unnoticed, tears start trickling down her face.

Kill with my heart my heart kills

"You have to leave..." The barrel of Mal's gun pressed to his temple is the only solid thing he feels, besides fear. "She died and you'll die if you stay with me, they all will..."

She continues moving towards him slowly, using all of her training to keep her face calm and her movements easy.

"I won't die, Mal. Whatever happened before, it wasn't your fault. I'm strong and I'm not going to leave.

She feels like she's babbling, but she can't stop herself.

Have to keep talking, have to keep him here.

"But it was Lilly and I was so young; I won't be the one to bring you pain."

Mal's hand stops shaking, and he steels himself.

"I won't choose that for anyone but myself."

Inara knows she has to move quickly.

"I'll take that risk, Mal. Choose me, stay with me, please."

She takes a deep breath, then in one motion steps forwards, sweeps the gun away from his head and kisses him.

I'm here solid not going anywhere

Mal doesn't react, at first.

Choose me stay with me

Mal's gun is still heavy in his hand, but heavier, softer, warmer, is Inara's hand on his and Mal's mouth against hers.

Choose me stay with me

Mal slowly uncurls his fingers from his gun, wrapping his arms around Inara.

I Choose I Choose I Choose

Inara relaxes as the gun drops from their hands and Mal's arms encircle her body. She holds him tightly, continuing to kiss him, afraid to lose any contact between them.

She breaks the kiss for a moment to whisper, "I love you and I'm not going anywhere", then kisses him again, her tears making his cheeks wet.

I love you and I'm not going anywhere

Mal sighs into Inara's hair as he holds her. Or she holds him. "Me neither."

Mal really doesn't want to let Inara go. Ever. But he has to - He's The Captain.

Standing, Inara's hand on his shoulder, he reholsters his gun and buckles on his gunbelt, moving to the shipwide comm in his bunk.

"This is the captain. Meet me in the kitchen. We got business to discuss."

Looking to Inara, Mal smiles before climbing out of the hatch.

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